


Born from Dark Water

by xXfireXflyXx



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Crossover, F/M, Loki Angst, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 132,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXfireXflyXx/pseuds/xXfireXflyXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki always secretly stole Thor's things: toys, books, cloaks, weapons, servants. As far as he was concerned, when all this nonsense began, Thor's Olympian bride-to-be was just another thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All is Arranged

Thor’s jaw clenched as he stormed down the hall of the Imperial Palace, the All-father’s words ringing in his ears. 

“If you long to be king, Thor, my son,” he had told Thor, smiling kindly as he leaned against the rim of his room’s private balcony, “you will need a queen to fit.”

A queen. He hardly needed a woman in order to lead Asgard to glorious victories against their enemies! His father planned to bring him to power in the spring of the following year, on the day of Kings. All of Asgard would see him as their new monarch, and the All-father could finally rest from his many years of leadership. The shoes would be great to fill, but Thor was fully confident in his abilities to overtake his father. After all, he had been chosen over his brother, Loki, to succeed Odin when the time was right. He had led the Warriors Three and Lady Sif into many glorious battles. He had proved, time and time again, that he was in control of his power, and had the love of the Asgardians. He had done all of this without a wife, and he saw no reason to change that now. 

“Father,” he'd argued, shaking his head, arms folded over his chest, “I need no woman to rule. Especially one of your choosing-“

His father’s laughter cut him off, and he felt his cheeks tint. It might have sounded as though he was being a child, but he felt strongly about his argument. 

“I would not have survived as long as I have without the love of your mother,” the All-father had explained as he nodded back to the room. Inside, his mother sat in a circular chair, her blonde hair swept up elegantly, a needle in her hand as she tended to a torn shirt of his. “A strong man needs a strong woman for guidance, for focus, for support. By doing this, I am only helping you.”

Helping. Thor scoffed noisily, ignoring a set of gold-clad guards monitoring the throne room as he continued through the halls of the palace, completely in his own head. How could his father think that by arranging his marriage he was ‘helping’? If anything, it made it look as though Thor couldn’t find a suitable woman on his own, like he was incompetent. Arranged marriages weren’t something out of the ordinary among the families of Asgard, but he knew for a fact that his father hadn’t been arranged with his mother, and they were the happiest, most faithful couple he had ever known. Why should his future be any different?

He threw open the doors to the chamber that he and his brother shared and marched in, spotting Loki perched atop his usual sitting chair. When they were boys, this had been their playroom, a spot in one of the higher towers of the palace. It had a glorious view of the city, and as they grew older, it became more adorned with gold and other fineries that their mother thought they deserved. For now, it was still their place, their circular haven with a fire pit in the middle. They used it as a study, a sanctuary, and a place to drink and strategize. There were many other rooms in the palace to socialize, but this had been theirs since they were children. 

“So?” Loki inquired, stretching his long legs out in front of him as he set his book down. “What did he want this time?”

Thor plopped himself down in the armchair opposite of his brother, throwing his legs up and over the armrest. 

“Apparently, I am to be married.”

He watched Loki’s slim eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his brother released a chuckle. “What?”

“Apparently,” Thor ground out, irritated that his brother seemed to think the notion so comical, “every strong king needs a strong queen, or something to that nature…”

“Ah.”

He knew this discussion of kingship would silence his brother, who had been particularly frosty about the subject ever since their father announced his decision some months ago to have Thor become his successor. His brother’s moods were so tiresome, and he wished they would go toward something more productive, like congratulating Thor on this gracious honour.

“Marriages also bring political alliances,” Thor continued to rant, rolling his eyes as he kicked off his shoes. “Father believes the marriage will also bring us closer to Zeus.” 

Loki wrinkled his brow. “Zeus? The ruler of Olympus?” 

“The very same.”

“Well,” his brother started, shrugging his slim shoulders a little, “I have heard that the man has pretty daughters.”

“One pretty daughter,” Thor corrected firmly, holding up a finger. They all knew only of Aphrodite and her feminine wiles, particularly her beauty and grace; the goddess’ physical prowess was legend, even in Asgard and the Nine Realms. “And she’s already married.”

“Oh, stop complaining, brother,” Loki told him, shaking his head. “How unfortunate for you that father would arrange a powerful connection in which you marry a goddess. So terrible if your fate…” His brother sighed, clearly sarcastic, “It could be much worse.”

Thor rolled his eyes again, and Loki leaned forward, his voice dropping a little, “He could have chosen a human. Can you imagine?”

“Come, brother,” Thor muttered. “They are not that bad.”

“I would gladly marry an Olympian over some small human,” Loki scoffed. “Don’t let father see you being ungrateful.”

“I’m not… I’m not ungrateful,” the man grumbled. “Why does he think I can’t find my own wife?”

“Experience, perhaps?” his brother mused, picking up his book once more. “I don’t understand why you’re upset… I would be happy if father found me a bride.”

“Father hardly knows either of our tastes in women,” Thor said, more to himself than Loki. The fire burned low in the hearth between them, and the light was fading across the city. “You shouldn’t read in this light, brother…”

He rose from his seat and sauntered across the space between them, only to frown when he read the title of the book’s cover. He then snatched it from the hands of his dark-haired brother, and then held it up for him to view, the pages crushed between his fingers. 

“This one is mine,” he told Loki, “and you’ve made me lose my spot.”

His brother smirked a little; Thor hated reading, and when he did finally immerse himself in a book, he was truly flustered to lose his place in it. 

“My apologies, brother,” Loki said as Thor stalked off toward the terrace, intent on finding his spot again. Had he looked back, he would have caught the fierce glare his beloved brother threw in his direction.


	2. Children of the Sun

“Don’t you know what this marriage will do for us?” her father inquired, his thick, white eyebrows knitted together as he scrutinized her from his throne. “It will give us a powerful ally… You know the titans are stirring-“

“I know, father,” Artemis remarked pointedly, her blue eyes flashing at the man as she stared at him, “but you made me a promise.”

“I made you a promise when you were a girl,” Zeus agreed, nodding his head, tone softening, “but it was just that… a promise to a child who had no real concept of the world we live in.”

Artemis sucked in her cheeks, displeased but unwilling to snap at her beloved father further. She turned away, staring around the Pantheon with contempt. At least he had the decency not to call all the gods to court to make his announcement. Instead, he had summoned her alone to tell her that he had made an arrangement with Odin, ruler of Asgard, in which she was to wed his first son, Thor. 

When he first told the young goddess, she assumed he was joking. She half-expected Apollo to dart out from behind one of the columns, an impish grin on his face to indicate that he was in on this supposed joke, and she would then chase her twin brother out through the street of Olympus. They would laugh, be merry, and then she would probably join him in the gardens for lunch. 

Unfortunately, none of that happened. Her father’s stony expression indicated his seriousness, and as he sat on the throne of Olympus, wrapped in his usual regal toga, he explained the delicate situation at hand. The titans were a continued threat, and although the Gods of Olympus were powerful, they were spread thin between Earth and their ancestral home. Therefore, should there ever be an attack by the barbaric titans, Zeus desired another strong ally to beat them back into submission. Thor Odinson, the supposed God of Thunder in Asgard, was well known throughout many of the realms, particularly for his warmongering. He wasn’t a brute, from what she had heard, but he did not strike her as the type who could be settled for long. Apparently, he was to become the king by this time in the following year, and his father believed a strong marriage would only benefit him. 

For all their differences, Zeus and Odin were sickeningly alike on this issue, and it made her deeply angry in her heart of hearts. She adored her father. He doted on her and her twin brother, welcoming them to Olympus despite their mother’s scandalous history, and even made them part of the High Council when they were of age against the advice of Hera, his wife. He had always been a source of wisdom, and encouraged her to do what she desired with her life. He fashioned the first bow and arrow she ever shot, and laughed merrily when she regaled him of hunting tales with her handmaidens. 

When she was a young girl, she had climbed onto his knee while at the wedding of her young cousin, Persephone, and her uncle, Hades, and made a request of her father; she never wanted to marry. She wanted to have the freedom to remain chaste and pure throughout her life. She had great ambitions of becoming the best midwife known to mankind. At the time, her father tucked a piece of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ears and lightly touched her nose with one massive finger, reassuring her that she could stay free until the end of time. She had believed him – believed everything he had told her. 

And here they were, facing off in the Pantheon over her impending engagement to a prince from Asgard. She had never been to that realm, but she knew it was quite different from Olympus. Her home was like air; light, breezy, carefree. Nymphs splashed in the enchanted rivers, and the gods all found a home amongst the temples and other structures that Zeus had created for them. It was paradise, akin to Delos (her birthplace on Earth) in her mind. She was now being plucked from her paradise and thrust into a world completely unfamiliar to her, just as her uncle had plucked Persephone from Earth and taken her to the Underworld. This wasn’t as traumatic, obviously, but she still felt absolutely powerless against the forces around her. 

“Artemis,” her father said kindly, forcing her to look back at him. “Know that this does not mean I love you any less… I don’t want to send you so far away-“

“Why not Athena?” she demanded, mentioning her unwed sister despite the fact she knew the reasons why he would never put his favourite up for consideration, “She isn’t married, and she’s older than I am.” 

“Your sister is needed here-“

“And I am not?”

“Your sister,” he continued, this time a little more forcefully, “has known the company of several men in her time… I wish to produce a … pure bride for Odin.”

Her face fell slack, and she took a step toward him. “You’ve chosen me because you think I’m a virgin?”

She blinked back her hurt, her shock, her anger. Her father sighed. “Artemis, my girl, come here…”

The goddess stared at his extended hand, and although she wanted to do nothing more than flee the Pantheon to scream into the abyss, she did as she was told. She stalked across the room stiffly and accepted her father’s hand, finally taking a seat on the armrest of his throne, something she had done since childhood. 

“It pains me to do this,” he told her, “because you will be so far from me… but this is all for you. You will become queen of a powerful kingdom, and marry a man who will no doubt go to the ends of all the worlds to protect and serve you. Your beauty will overwhelm him-“

Artemis snorted loudly, earning her hand a squeeze as he continued, “You will make me a very proud, happy father if you do this. I only desire what is best for you, my huntress.” 

One look into his ocean blue eyes and Artemis had lost. She gave him a small smile and leaned down, her forehead resting against his, “I live to make you happy, father.”

“You always have,” he murmured, tilting his head to kiss her cheek. “Now, make yourself ready… We will leave tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Artemis asked softly, sitting back and observing him with a furrowed brow, “I had thought… maybe…”

“It must be now,” Zeus said, “as per Odin’s request. Your mother and I will travel with you. You may bring a few handmaidens, but no one else.”

“Why not Apollo?” Artemis demanded, angered that he would bring his wife, not her mother, with him, and yet her twin brother, the man she was closest with in this universe, had to remain behind. 

“I have made my decision, Artemis.”

“May I bring a dog then?” she asked tightly, unable to bear the thought of also leaving her entire pack of hunting dogs behind. He consented with a nod, and she eased herself off of his chair. She assumed the conversation had come to an end, and Artemis made short work of the Pantheon, her bare feet carrying her away from him in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh, and Artemis,” he called, stopping her at the exit. “You’ll need to wear a dress…”

She nodded. Of course. Of course she would need to look remotely feminine. A quick glance down at her brown tunic, one that connected between her thighs like a man, and she knew that they were going to work hard to make her look presentable for the prince of Asgard. 

Although she had given her verbal acceptance of this odious task, the rest of her emotions had yet to catch up. Her anger brimmed at the surface as she marched down the steps of the sacred meeting place, only to come to an abrupt halt when an individual blocked her way. Hera, the redheaded wife of Zeus, smiled down at her knowingly, and placed her hands on Artemis’ arms. 

“We are so pleased that you have given your blessing,” she cooed, her eyes blank as she addressed the younger goddess. “I know you’ve made your father so pleased.”

She stood quite still as the older woman placed a kiss on both cheeks, and then carried on, floating up the stairs to the Pantheon to no doubt tend to Zeus. She was not her mother. She had no right to address her like a daughter, and Artemis knew she only did it when she wanted to make Artemis suffer. The young goddess swallowed down her insult and carried on down the slanted streets of Olympus. Handmaidens and servants who normally flocked to her darted out of the way as she stormed through, and she only came to a stop when she reached the clearing that she shared with her brother. 

It was a secluded place near the outskirts of the main city, but it was absolutely beautiful. The twins chose it as their own shortly after they arrived on Olympus as children, though Apollo had been known to bring women there whenever he desired. Artemis kept it sacred, but she had no qualms with her brother if he wanted to use it for other purposes when she wasn’t there. She traveled through a small tunnel, rock on either side of her and a roof of vines and flowers grown over top. It emptied into a small meadow, surrounded by ancient trees, littered with rocks of the Olympus Mountain, and encased by a river of the clearest water. 

Her brother was easy to spot. He sat atop a large stone, legs crossed, lyre in hand, and a plethora of nymphs scattered around him. She could practically hear them cooing at whatever came out of his mouth, which was nothing out of the ordinary. It was always fun to watch Apollo woo women, because they made fools of themselves once he started. She had never been like that, never one to tease nor be led on, but Apollo seemed to take great joy in it, especially if it was a human. 

As she approached, it was easy to see their similarities. They were both children of the sun, and yet her brother was the one to ride his chariot across it. Bright eyed blues stared out at the world, accompanied by a head of golden hair, sometimes reddish depending on the sunlight. Like the rest of the Olympians, they were both endowed with an olive skin tone, which sometimes grew dark on Artemis if she ventured down to Earth for a hunt. Strong bodied and able, she and her brother had gone on many adventures together, both in the cosmos and on Earth, and she held him above all in terms of her love. 

“Ah, sister!” he greeted pleasantly as she approached, her bare feet crushing some purple weeds as she marched through the meadow. “You’re just in time! I was about to regale these beauties with the tale of Prometheus and the Fire!”

He announced the title of his story quite dramatically, which caused all the nymphs to giggle profusely, their eyes wide with excitement. At least one among them hoped desperately that her brother would take her right here in the field when he finished, against a rock or tree, but there would be none of that today. 

“Leave us,” Artemis barked, in no mood for pleasantries. Some of the nymphs scattered immediately, while a select few looked to her brother for confirmation. Their eyes met, and she told him without a word spoken that she needed him. He nodded, and then waved the scantily clad temptresses away, promising to finish the story another time. They disappeared slowly, some into the trees, others into the river, and Artemis ground her teeth together impatiently.

When they were finally alone, truly alone, she collapsed to the ground, sprawling her limbs out in all directions as she let out an irritated cry. She felt like a little girl, like a child who had just been told they were starting schooling tomorrow and they weren’t ready to end a vacation. Apollo’s shadow passed over her as he stood up and walked around her, leaving his lyre resting against the stone, but opting to lie down on the soft, grassy terrain beside her, his limbs also flung out obscurely. 

“Tell me,” he said, fumbling around a bit until his hand finally found hers, “what did the Great Father wish with you today?”

“Something tells me you already know,” Artemis muttered. 

She let him hold her hand, and for a split second she punished him by not immediately gripping his in return. However, she couldn’t hold out for long, and she soon turned her head to the side, studying her golden-haired brother. He stared back at her, and she saw in his face that he already knew, as she suspected, of her current predicament. She snatched her hand away, folding her arms over her chest. 

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he asked weakly. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but father insisted-"

“A little warning would have been suffice,” Artemis snapped. “Oh? You’re going to see father alone today? Well, he’s going to tell you that you’re to marry some dolt from Asgard… Just be prepared.”

“Father would have taken my lyre as punishment.”

“I am worth more than your damn lyre,” she sneered, shooting him a glare. Apollo continued to gaze up at the sky, the warm sunlight dancing on his features. “I don’t want to do this, Apollo.”

“I know….” He murmured, “I was very against it at the meeting.”

“You had a meeting about this?”

“Well, only a small one,” he admitted sheepishly. “Father summoned myself, Athena, Hera, and Poseidon to discuss a match for Odin’s son. I pushed for Hestia, but alas, I was overruled.”

“And who suggested me?” she demanded despite knowing the answer. 

“Who do you think?”

“Oh, that woman,” Artemis ground out, hating Hera more than ever. “She’s wanted to be rid of me since the day I was born.”

“Since the day we were born,” Apollo corrected. “You don’t have to explain that to me…”

Artemis shook her head and sunk into an infuriated silence, glaring up at the sun. How dare is shine so brightly on such a miserable day!

“Why not Athena?”

“Do you really need to ask?” her brother mused, laughing a little, “As if our father would send his favourite-"

“I knew she was his favourite!”

“To marry some prince in Asgard,” Apollo finished. “He won’t give her to anyone, you know that.”

“I’m so pleased that I am easily dispensed with.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

Wasn’t it? Artemis folded her hands across her chest, huffing away her annoyance. In reality, she was perfectly dispensable; she had no following on Earth aside from a few scattered temples, and she made no real contribution to the High Council whenever they had meetings. In a way, she was as useless as Dionysus, who spent his days in orgies and covered in rich foods, but on the opposite end of spectrum. She hunted with her handmaidens, extracted revenge on spiteful mortals whenever Apollo suggested it, and spent her nights practicing magic beneath her moon. 

Zeus could never send Athena – she had actual value in the grand scheme of things. Wise, logical, and diplomatic, her older sister was exceptionally valuable to both Olympians and humans alike. If she disappeared into some other realm like Asgard, Athens would fall to ruin, and her father would lose his chief counsel in all matters of state and family. 

“He thinks I’m a virgin,” Artemis muttered. “Another reason for sending me, he claims.”

“I know,” her brother remarked. “I thought it best not to discuss Orion with him… It would break his heart, you see.”

She nodded. Orion was her only lover on Earth, a large man who hunted with her during the day and kept her bed warm at night. She had always wanted to remain pure and chaste, but he won her heart early on in their relationship. He was the only man she had given herself to, punishing all others who dared force her to be with them. Her love for him waned whenever she was on Olympus; he was only a human, after all, and he would one day be replaced when old age took him. However, very few knew of her illicit relationship with the man, which kept her pure image safe amongst the rest of the Olympians. 

She groaned softly and tugged at a thick blade of grass, uprooting it from its place in the ground, “What am I to do, Apollo?”

Her brother was silent for quite some time after, and she knew this decision pained him as much as it pained her. Finally, he spoke, and there was a stillness to his voice that made her heart crumble, “You’ll marry Thor, like father says. You’ll probably stay in Asgard… and I’ll visit you as often as I can.”

Her lip wobbled at the thought, but she took a deep breath, calming her emotions. “What if I don’t like him?”

“It’s a possibility, I’ll admit…”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Then he’s a fool,” Apollo told her. “I haven’t met a man in this world or the next who dislikes you.”

“You’re exaggerating, brother,” Artemis laughed weakly, shooting him a bit of a look through the grass. He grinned cheekily.

“Well, maybe a little,” he told her, “but that’s only because you never give any man a chance. You’re not made of stone, despite what the temples on Earth predict us as.”

She sighed, squinting a little as a breeze blew some of the longer grass in her face. “I can’t help it… The only men that proposition me are humans and demi-gods, and none of them are worthy of a second of my time.”

“Hmm,” her brother mused, “and what of the God of Thunder?”

“Father is that god,” she droned. 

“In Asgard, that title goes to Thor,” Apollo told her, and she nodded. “Is he worthy?”

“I don’t know,” Artemis admitted. “I haven’t met him yet.”

“Well, it could be wonderful then,” Apollo stated, but they both knew his words were hollow. “You could get there, and he will step forth to impress you with his wit, charm, and capabilities on the battle field. You will both fall madly in love, and give me dozens of nieces and nephews to spoil. What do you think?”

“I like this fairy-tale,” she whispered, “but I don’t foresee that in my future.”

“You have the gift of foresight?” Apollo said dramatically, toying with her, “Tell me my future, oh Wise One!”

“Stop it,” she urged, rolling onto her stomach and planting her face in the ground, slowly inhaling the scent of Olympus. She felt her brother nudge her shoulder, and finally manage to push her onto her side, his face riddled with the concern that made her love him. 

“Father is many things,” he told her, “but he is not intolerably cruel to his children. He would never leave you there is you were miserable or the man turned out to be a monster.”

“I… suppose,” she said carefully, seeing his reasoning. 

“Besides, at least you aren’t getting married to Hephaestus,” he snorted. “That gem has gone to our sister.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, even though it was cruel to; Aphrodite was such a beautiful goddess, desired by hundreds on Earth and on Olympus, and yet their father saw fit to marry her to the ugly, lame blacksmith Hephaestus here in Olympus. They seemed happy enough, but her sister’s affairs were notorious, and she was sure she barely made time to be intimate with her actual husband. 

“It could be worse,” Artemis agreed. “I’ve heard he is handsome, this Thor, but remarkably arrogant.”

“Perhaps you could put him in his place?” her brother suggested. She watched him rise to his feet gracefully, and then saunter around her to fetch his lyre. Then, before she realized what he was doing, he had scooped her up with one strong arm and hoisted her over his shoulder. 

“Put me down, brother!” she snapped, kneeing him sharply in the shoulder. That prompted him to send her tumbling to the ground gracelessly, and she landed in a heap at his feet. 

When she glared up at him, he wiggled his eyebrows at her dashingly, and then tore off into the meadow, Artemis in hot pursuit. She laughed, despite herself and her predicament, and spent the remainder of the evening with her brother. They packed up her things, picked three handmaidens to bring along, chose the best hunting dog, and went for a moonlight swim in their river. There was no other way to spend her final night in Olympus, but by the end of it, when her brother slipped off to fetch them dry clothes, she wept on the riverbed, heartbroken to leave this place.


	3. Fondest Greetings

“Ouch!”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Hera insisted we take all the tangles out…”

Artemis glared at her reflection in the mirror, disgusted to see herself in something she had commonly seen on her older sister, Aphrodite. The Goddess of Love saw fit to adorn herself in the finest silk dresses, ones that usually trailed elegantly to the floor in shades of pink that perfectly complimented her skin tone. Artemis hadn’t worn a dress since her sister’s wedding almost six years earlier; they were impractical for hunting, and seeing as she spent the majority of her time in the bush, it made little sense to ever wear one. Most of the time, Artemis preferred a toga, as it was easy to adjust, or a plain chiton with little embellishment. Now, she wasn’t completely devoid of any femininity; she usually placed a floral wreath on her head, covered in gorgeous young buds and flowers that bloomed so long as she wore it, and occasionally she was known to wear a few bracelets here and there. 

Otherwise, Artemis preferred to keep her appearance simple, and she seldom fretted over pointless things like the state of her hair or the dirt under her fingernails. However, as soon as she woke up that morning, she was given a complete make-over by her three chosen handmaidens, all under the direction of Hera to make her look presentable for her Asgardian suitor. They started with a bath, followed by a slightly painful scrub to make her skin appear smooth. They cleaned and trimmed her nails, and then saw to her outfit: a flowing blue garment with no sleeves and a cinched waist. When she walked, the various layers in her skirt shimmered, mimicking the ocean; some may have though it was lovely, but Artemis immediately commented on how impractical it was, a notion that her handmaidens agreed upon wholeheartedly. 

She was pleased to have three of her favourite hunting companions come with her to Asgard. The rest, although it saddened her, would remain behind with Apollo, who promised not to let anyone take their maidenhood while she was away. He could be quite protective when she told him to be, and he took his duty of guarding the women’s chastity seriously. Meanwhile, Artemis picked two nymphs, Aora and Callisto, and a human, Nomia, to accompany her on her journey. They were quite similar to her in personality, which was one of the reasons she chose them in the first place. 

Callisto was the daughter of the Arcadian king on Earth, and Artemis had rescued her from a vengeful suitor who wished to see her drown in a river near her usual hunting ground. The nymph was exceptionally beautiful, but remarkably humble, and had offered her life to Artemis for her intervention. From then on, the raven-haired creature had accompanied her on every single hunt in this realm and on Earth, and she was exceedingly loyal. Calm, level-headed, and chaste, Callisto made the perfect companion for this voyage. She was the one who had begged Artemis to take her dear friend, Nomia, away from servitude on Earth to live among the Gods of Olympus. 

Nomia had to prove her worth first, but eventually Artemis saw her wit, charm, and grace as high virtues, and she plucked the girl from her miserable life at home to live in the clouds with her other handmaidens. She was the youngest of her hunting party, but proved quite talented on a horse, and had the patience to wait for their quarry to arrive, a patience that seemed to outlast many of her ethereal handmaidens by tenfold. Clad with a swarm of red locks, Nomia was a vision of beauty, and while not as humble as Callisto, she had a knack for making Artemis laugh, even when she wished to remain somber. 

Aora was her final choice for this journey. A brunette nymph who also hailed from Crete on Earth, Artemis had invited her to hunt with them after she defended her from Ares’ greedy grasp. Her younger brother, the venerated God of War, saw fit to try to seduce the woman, and when she rebuffed him, he attempted to take her by force. Artemis had only stumbled upon the scene by chance while she and her companions were in hot pursuit of a stag, and it was Callisto who begged her to intervene. Aora was a pure nymph, a truely rare delicacy, but she had a darkness to her that was unappealing to Artemis. However, she couldn’t stand to hear the girl scream at the hands of her brother, so she chased him off, firing an arrow wherever his feet landed, until eventually he returned to Olympus defeated. He had yet to forgive her, but he couldn’t take Aora once she became one of her handmaidens, and so her fate was aligned to Artemis. 

All three were honoured to be chosen to accompany her, as she would have no other handmaidens with her for quite some time. She was curious as to whether Odin’s wife may see fit to provide her with some after she arrived, but that was left to be unseen. She hadn’t seen her father since they last spoke, so she had no new knowledge about her trip to Asgard aside from what he had already told her. Callisto was the most apprehensive of the three other women, and while the other two packed a plethora of dresses that belonged to Aphrodite for Artemis to wear while she was away, Callisto packed a small bag filled with weaponry and adequate riding gear. 

“Impracticality aside,” Aora commented as she finished brushing Artemis’ hair, the final step of their beauty regimen, “it does look quite nice when you leave it out.”

Artemis pursed her lips, studying her blonde locks with a critical eye. Her brother was blessed with natural curls, and Artemis was his polar opposite with stick straight hair. It had never been an issue for her, but when it came to styling it today, all three of her handmaidens only had a few limited styles for her to use. 

“Why don’t you braid it?” Nomia suggested. Artemis’ eyes flickered to the side, spotting her youngest handmaiden seated on the floor with her black hound; her task of nails and shoes had been completed, and she opted to cuddle the dog while she waited. Such a funny little girl… No one else ever wanted to cuddle with the dogs, and yet Nomia, the rare human among her group, would happily sleep with them if she let her. 

“Oh, that’s a lovely idea,” Aora told her, turning back to run her fingers through Artemis’ hair. “That way it will be nice and wavy when we take it down for your first dinner.”

Artemis groaned unhappily, her arms folded across her chest, “I can’t believe we’ll actually have to plan all my outfits and hairstyles for every little occasion. It’ll be so draining.”

“Not to fret, my lady,” Callisto told her from across the room. She was in the midst of writing a list for each bag so that it would be easier to find everything once they were settled. “You’ll leave all of that up to us… You only need to focus on getting to know your prince.”

“I’m fairly sure it isn’t quite as simple as that,” Artemis sighed, “but thank you.”

She watched as Aora finished a loose braid, and then went about picking at her scalp, pulling bits and pieces of hair out systematically to complete some overall look for her. When she finished, the hairdo had the appearance that it was effortless, simply something she had done before she went to bed the night before, but in reality it took the better part of a half hour to finish completely. 

“Oh, and the final piece,” Aora murmured, popping back to Artemis’ bed for a moment. She frowned and followed the nymph in the mirror, only to smile a little when she produced a headpiece made entirely of white lilies. It was exquisite, and as soon as Aora placed it upon her golden head, she noticed a few of the slightly closed flowers perk up. Her handmaiden smiled triumphantly, clearly pleased with her work, and then placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your brother dropped it off while you were in the bath this morning… I believe he made it.”

Artemis smiled wholeheartedly now, leaning closer to the mirror to examine it. Yes, it certainly had Apollo’s handiwork on it: a gold base entwined with loose twigs from their sacred place, and rare white lilies from Earth. He always knew how to fashion the best gifts for her. He was such a mystery, her brother. As the God of Music, Poetry, Disease, Archery, and Protection of the Youth, he was one of the most complex people she had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. One day he could be in the gardens, tenderly regaling a group of nymphs and human children with stories of the ancients, and the next he would set a plague upon an ungrateful city for their lack of worship. He was quite able in battle, and yet capable of producing beautiful headpieces for her to wear. 

She was going to miss him so terribly. 

“My Queen!”

She watched Nomia scrambled to her feet and into a low bow as Callisto greeted the arrival of her father’s wife, Hera. Aora joined the display shortly, but Artemis remained seated at her vanity, absently wiping off some of the colouring over her eyelids. She wasn’t about to bow to Hera now, and she was sure she never would. After all, the woman had arranged for Artemis to be shipped away to Asgard, and all because of an age-old hatred of her true mother, Leto, and the woman’s affair with Zeus. If anyone could maintain a grudge for eternity, it was the almighty Hera. 

“Oh, Artemis,” she said, clapping her hands together as she approached her. “You look like a girl!”

“I have always looked like a girl,” Artemis remarked. 

“Not dressed in a man’s tunic you don’t,” Hera scoffed, rearranging the way some of the flowers sat in the headpiece as Artemis stewed. “This is very lovely.”

“Apollo made it for me.”

“So thoughtful, your brother,” the woman sighed, her thin fingers now assessing her braid. 

Once it passed her inspection, she turned her sights on the pile of bags on her bed, a finger to her lips as she studied them. Artemis finally rose from her position in front of the vanity, arms still folded as she watched the woman poke around in some of the bags. She quickly met Callisto’s eye, and the handmaiden nodded to the bag at the far side of the mammoth bed, knowing that small one contained their weapons. 

“You really don’t have enough packed,” Hera noted, her head cocked to the side as she moved down the line. “Only two bags for shoes? My goodness, Artemis, what are you going to wear for the rest of the year?”

Artemis felt her hackles fly up at the continued criticism of her handmaiden’s packing skills, similar to the way that her hound regarded Hera from a cautious distance, clearly uneasy. However, she did not want her to discover her hidden trove of weapons, so she figured it was time to step in and practice the acting she had planned for the majority of her interactions with Asgardians. 

“Perhaps I could buy more while I’m there,” she commented, making Hera pause at the bag before her weapon sac. “After all, a man should buy his intended things… I think Thor should spoil me a little.”

The redhead studied her for a moment, and then looked at her handmaidens. All three stood silently in a row, their eyes cast down respectfully, and she finally produced something of a genuine smile. 

“Oh, so shrewd, my dear,” Hera laughed, her near purple eyes alight with glee as she strode over to her. “There may be less to teach you than I thought.”

Artemis’ shoulders stiffened as Hera wrapped a slim arm around them, but she managed to produce something of a forced smile when she gazed up at the taller woman. Without another word, Hera pulled her out of the room, prattling on about how wonderful the dress she had chosen complimented Artemis in every way, and how enthralled Prince Thor was to be when he first saw her. It was all a good deal of nonsense, as she knew Hera was lying through her teeth about Artemis looking attractive in the dress. 

She wasn’t someone to knock herself down, but she knew she did not possess the beauty of Aphrodite, and perhaps not even of some of her handmaidens. Her beauty came from her strength, in her opinion, and her conviction to follow through with all her promises. She always thought that she had high morals too, along with a loyalty to those she loved that was unwavering. That was what made her beautiful. All Olympians possessed a grace that put them above the average human or demi-god, but there were certainly far more physically attractive goddesses in her family than she. 

Their march down to the edge of Olympus was a depressing one. The walkway was lined with members of her family, from Demeter to Poseidon and everyone between, and she paused every so often to give a particularly sad one a hug. Servants, nymphs, and naiads scattered along the outer rung of the crowd, tossing flowers and wishing her well in Asgard. 

She stopped occasionally, giving herself a moment to take in the land around her. Lush valleys, pearl-white buildings, statues and ancient columns littered the mountain of Olympus. Everything was so light, so clear, so beautiful, and she couldn’t imagine not seeing this every morning when she woke. This wasn’t just some casual trip to Earth in which she would return shortly after to her own bedroom. No, this was a trip to a realm she had never been to before, and she was sure she wasn’t going to leave it for quite some time. 

Hera tugged at her arm, leading her along whenever she lingered too long, and it took everything in her not to slap the woman’s hand away. However, with the eyes of nearly all Olympians on her, she forced herself to be on her best behaviour. She was lucky that her three faithful handmaidens were nearby, or she would have felt utterly hopeless in Hera’s arms. Every time she glanced over her shoulder, there was Callisto to smile at her, or Nomia to nod reassuringly. She didn’t like to think of herself as a weak person, someone who can’t stand on her own two feet, but it was always nice to have a little bit of support. Even though Hera was the one that was holding her, there was no real support there, no love.

“We’ll travel to Earth together,” Hera informed her, smiling at Hestia as they passed her, “and then they will bring us up through their bifrost bridge into Asgard.”

“All right,” Artemis sighed dully. 

Their main entrance to the realm of humans was at the base of Olympus, which would take them directly down to the Mount Olympus on Earth. She didn’t particularly understand the magic that moved them, but somehow it always pulled them through. In order to get into Asgard from Earth, they had to travel along the rainbow bridge between the realms, one that was called the Bifrost, guarded by a being she was told who had the ability to see through time and space. He was called Heimdall, the guardian of Asgard, and her father had a high reverence for his powers.

When they finally reached the end of the procession, she saw her father and her twin waiting for them. There were several servants scattered around, each trying to gather last-minute items and ensure all the bags were properly labeled. Her own handmaidens soon joined them, adding Artemis’ bags to the fray. One could simply never travel alone, and it seemed as though Zeus was bringing an army with him to see his old friend Odin.

Artemis went straight for her brother, and for a brief moment they simply stared at one another. They hadn’t said a proper farewell the night before, and she certainly wasn’t sure how to do it now. Finally, a faint smile appeared on his lips, and he dipped his head down to kiss her forehead. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, cupping both cheeks in his warm hands, his eyes holding her gaze with ease. 

“ _You_ don’t cry,” she laughed in return, her eyes already watering. “Promise me you’ll visit. Soon.”

“As soon as I can,” he promised, kissing her on both cheeks. “You look beautiful. He’d be a fool not to treat you like gold, sister.” 

“Come to me soon,” she ordered as she threw her arms around his neck, clutching to him with every ounce of feeling she had in her. “Look after my girls.”

“As though they were my own,” he murmured. “Be safe. Be smart.”

“I always am.”

“Mind Hera,” he told her, his voice lowering further still, “or she’ll be your ruin.”

“I know.”

“Artemis,” her father called, his voice stern. “We must be off, child.”

She swallowed back her emotion, clung to her brother for another moment, and then finally broke away. She didn’t dare look back at Apollo one last time lest she truly lose herself, and instead found a place at her father’s side, ducking under his arm and wrapping an arm around his midsection. He smiled down at her kindly, and then gave her a bit of a squeeze.

“We go to your future,” he told her, his eyes alight with excitement. “This will be your greatest achievement, my little huntress.”

“Yes, father.”

“What is this?” Hera snapped from behind. Artemis and her father turned at the same time, and her eyes narrowed when she spotted Hera holding her bow. 

“I think it’s fairly obvious-"

“Artemis would be missing a limb without her bow,” her brother interjected before she could finish. “It would be wrong to leave it behind.”

She must have snatched it from Aora, who had been hiding it beneath her long green traveling cloak. Unfortunately, it was clear that she hadn’t been hiding it well enough, and Artemis glared at the nymph, who looked at the ground pointedly, nibbling her lip. Coward.

“She’s already getting a dog to go with her,” Hera argued, pointing down at her hound with a menacing finger. “We can’t have them thinking we’re sending Thor a boy in disguise.”

She snapped at a nearby attendant who hurried forward on command, and Artemis felt her jaw drop as Hera shoved her beloved bow into his hands. 

“Father,” she whispered, tugging on his gold-embellished tunic, “please!”

“She’s right,” he told her. “We made the effort to turn you into the beauty you are… I don’t want him distracted by your affinity for archery.”

Realizing she had lost this fight, Artemis simply turned away, not able to watch her precious bow be hauled off to sit somewhere and collect dust. Hopefully, if she was lucky, she might be able to borrow on in Asgard if she ever needed to let off a little steam. 

If things continued to go along this route, she was fairly sure she would need to blow off steam sooner rather than later. Perhaps Hera would be around for some target practice. 

* * *

Loki hated ceremonies. He hated the pompous display of Asgardian colours, the screeching crowds, and the way his parents saw fit to nitpick at every little thing while he was in the public eye. What he hated even more than all that was the fact that these ceremonies were never for him. They were never to show off his prowess in battle, nor to celebrate his intellect, but rather to flaunt his older brother for all of Asgard to admire. His handsome brother, golden-haired and full of brawn, eager to show the crowds of their people that he truly deserved to be king; he was full of performance, full of show, and Loki seemed to lack the theatricality required for Asgardian ceremonies. 

Instead, he was usually placed beside his mother. She was always pleased to have him nearby, and sometimes whispered little things in his ear that she noticed about the way the ceremony carried on. However, the fact that he could never be at his father’s side in public always had a knack for putting him in a foul mood. 

It was customary for guests to begin their march through the streets of the main city, in which throngs of people would hurl flower petals and other welcoming gifts their way. If the guests were on good terms, as Zeus of Olympia was with his father, the crowds would be almost overwhelming. It was a display of unity, of strength, of power, and guests were always endlessly impressed with how well the common masses behaved with minimal security. 

From there, a private escort would bring the distinguished guests up and into the palace, taking a scenic route to highlight all the privileges that the royals had to enjoy under his father’s rule. Eventually, they would end up in the throne room, which would be teeming with the elite of Asgardian society: nobles, businessmen, and high-ranking guards. It was there these guests would meet the royal family, which consisted of his father, Odin, seated atop his enormous throne; his mother, Frigga, who always stood to his father’s left, gorgeous and alert to anything happening around her; his brother, Thor, at his father’s right hand, arms folded as though he kept all company at a distance, a display of confidence. Finally, there was Loki, clad in his usual black riding attire and placed next to his mother. 

Once everyone had a chance to admire the guests in the airy throne room, a round structure open to see all of Asgard through the fine silk walls, they would proceed forward to address his father, and then the remainder of the royal family. Loki was included in that procedure, but most people were keen on impressing his father, which meant Thor came at a close second, followed by his mother, and then finally they might turn their attention to Loki. He was the second-born son, after all, which meant he was bound to remain in his big brother’s shadow until the day he died. 

That would have been so much easier if his big brother wasn’t a complete dolt when it came to a number of things. Thor was excellent in battle. He was great for a drink. He could tell a good joke. He was one of the few people who could detect displeasure and unhappiness in Loki beneath his mask. However, he was far too hungry for war, he lacked discipline in his studies, he had a knack for poking fun at Loki at social gatherings, and his intellectual abilities were usually failing whenever he had some mead in him. Loki both loved and loathed his older brother, both envious and proud of his achievements. His emotions regarding his brother were a bit of a mess, which was an endless supply of frustration in his life. 

A current frustration stemmed from Thor’s disliking for this arranged marriage. It was actually quite infuriating that he didn’t quite see just how well off he was; Odin wasn’t going to pick a hideous wench for his firstborn to marry, which meant she would be a beauty from a wealthy family. She didn’t particularly need to be intelligent, especially if Thor was her betrothed, but it would surely be beneficial if she was. Loki assumed Thor’s biggest concern with attaining a fiancée was that he would have to stop his “secret” affair with the Lady Sif, which had carried on for far too long now –in Loki’s opinion, anyway. 

The blithering idiot – a term he used lovingly, mind you – couldn’t see the real benefits of marrying someone from Olympus. Zeus, God of Thunder and ruler of the Olympians, may have only seemed concerned with fucking everything that moved, but he had a vast army at his disposal, and control of all his brothers’ armies. Should they ever face destruction, and for some reason the Asgardian forces would not do, Thor merely had to call upon his father-in-law to join forces with him and they would have the most powerful army in all the realms. However, none of that seemed to be at the forefront of his mind, and as usual, Thor was concerned with the little things rather than focusing on the bigger picture. 

Loki would have graciously accepted all the work his father had done in this arrangement. He would have smiled, agreed, thanked him, and then embraced whatever Zeus had to send his way. However, his brother was the one everyone was focused on, which meant Loki could only sit around and think over what he would have done if he was in Thor’s position. For a fleeting moment that morning in the bath, he had considered taking her from Thor. Now, it might have been a daring mission, as women generally preferred the blond hero with muscles and a charming smile, but he could always try his chances. If he were to make this girl prefer him to her brother, he could prove to himself – and possibly his father, if it worked – that he was just as capable of Thor in most matters, and he shouldn’t be looked over so easily. 

It wouldn’t be quite like taking his brother’s books, nor would it be similar to stealing his servants as he had done when they were younger, but the task would fall in a comparable vein. It would be a challenge, yes, but he so enjoyed challenges when he knew he had a fighting chance. 

However, he would bide his time. He had to make sure this girl was even worth the trouble. His eyes wandered the throne room, which was illuminated by the light of the fading sun. It cast a warm glow on Asgard’s elite, along with the plethora of servants milling about with food and drink. He shot a look toward his brother across the way, flanked by the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Thor managed to catch his eye and then grinned, winking quickly as the horns sounded to announce the arrival of their esteemed guests. 

“To the court of Odin,” a servant cried, silencing the crowd slowly. “May I present Zeus of Olympus … King of the Gods, God of Sky, Thunder and Lightning, Justice and Order. His wife, Hera, Goddess of Marriage, Childbirth and the Fairer Sex. And lastly, their daughter, Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, Forests and Hills, and the Moon.”

So many titles. Loki tried to exchange another look with his brother, but the man was already lost to a world of smiles and applause as the trio entered. He had never seen an Olympian before, but they seemed similar in stature to himself and his family. As gods, they were stronger than men, more durable, but appeared to be the same as everyone else in the court. First entered Zeus, dressed in a white tunic with noticeable gold patterns along the edges. His hair was white as the snows of the north, lengthy down his back, and mirrored by a trimmed, neat white beard in the front. He seemed broad, strong, and wider in size than his brother; it was easy to see why he ruled those beneath him. 

His wife marched at his side, and for being the deity of childbirth to humans, she certainly did not look as though she had ever passed a child into this world. She was thin, tall, and yet had a beauty to her face that seemed to justify her position at her husband’s side. She walked a step behind him now as they approached the throne, though he noticed her shoot a bit of a shy smile toward his mother, who returned it warmly. 

Finally, he had to lean to the side a little, but he spotted his brother’s bride-to-be, this Artemis character. He blinked a few times, trying to bring her into focus; she was quite lovely. Thor had insisted that there was only one truly beautiful daughter of Zeus, and she was already married, but clearly he had been mistaken. The jealousy Loki had previously felt amplified as he studied her, taking in her tall stature, her excellent posture, her olive skin-tone, and her elegantly styled hair. The flowers atop her head seemed to live, bending and twisting at odd moments as though they too were taking in the sights around them. She seemed focused on making sure her thick bustle of skirts did not tangle, and Loki watched her pluck at it every so often, a look of discomfort just barely visible on her face. 

“Welcome,” his father boomed finally, breaking his no doubt obvious staring, “Zeus, my friend.”

“Get off your damn throne and greet me properly, Odin Borson,” the man demanded, his tone burly and deep, echoing throughout the hall. “Or shall I drag you off?”

Loki felt his mother tense beside him, and he stared at the god, shocked to hear him address his father thusly. He also only then noticed that Zeus was not wearing shoes. In fact, none of them were; what a strange culture. 

Much to his surprise, Odin laughed at the man’s words, a pleasant laugh that indicated there were no feelings of displeasure between them, and he watched his father finally rise. The man descended the throne’s wide steps quickly, meeting Zeus in a few great strides, and they embraced like long-lost brothers. 

“It has been far too long, my friend,” Odin beamed as they both grasped one another’s shoulders, signs of the warriors of old. He beckoned for Thor to join them, and Loki watched as his brother strolled down to his father’s side. 

“You’ve become a man since I last saw you, Thor,” Zeus boomed, clapping his brother on the shoulder firmly. “I remember when you were the length of my arm!”

“Welcome to Asgard,” Thor managed, clearly at the loss for words amongst the familiarities of the conversation. “I hope I can still entertain as much as I did when I was the length of your arm!”

“You had another one, didn’t you?” Zeus asked, his bright blue eyes traveling up and landing on Loki quickly, “Yes! You did! Come here, boy.”

He felt his cheeks flame a little, but he managed to produce a smile as he strolled forward, taking his mother’s arm around his so that she wouldn’t feel left out. 

“This one’s really sprouted,” Zeus commented, and Loki realized they were roughly the same height now that they were on even ground. “What do you feed him? Tall and slim… That’s the Frigga in you!”

He continued to smile, though he wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted that he had been compared to his mother’s stature. She squeezed his arm lightly, and he was nudged aside as the elders of the conversation greeted one another. The men kissed the women’s cheeks happily, and they continued shaking hands as though they hadn’t seen each other in a millennium. 

“Now, let me introduce my youngest daughter of the High Council,” Zeus insisted, grasping the blonde girl by the arm and bringing her forward. “May I present my daughter, Artemis.”

“It is an honour, All-father,” she greeted, dipping her head toward Odin. Her voice was lovely; clear, crisp, but nothing like the soprano he had expected. 

“Welcome to Asgard,” Odin told her. “May I present my son, Thor.”

He brought Loki’s brother forward, and Loki continued to watch the scene unfold from the background. His brother took her hand and kissed it, producing a warm smile that she seemed a little hesitant to return. Neither of them said anything, but that seemed lost to both fathers, who were already moving passed the introductions.

“You are all welcome,” Odin started noisily, addressing the crowd, “to join us in the Grand Hall for a welcoming feast!”

The crowd erupted in a plethora of noisy cheers, and Loki watched the families pair up as they strolled away toward the exit of the Throne room; Odin and Zeus, Frigga and Hera, and supposedly Thor and Artemis.

“I almost forgot you had two,” Zeus commented loudly, nodding back in Loki’s direction. “I’ll have to produce another daughter for him!”

Both laughed heartily at the sentiment, and his jaw clenched firmly. However, he barely had time to process the statement because he had to draw all of his attention toward his brother and Artemis. Both simply stood in the wake of their parents, smiling awkwardly at one another. His brother wasn’t necessarily a ladies man, though all the women seemed to idolize him regardless, but he was usually better at making random conversation than Loki. 

“Did you have a pleasant trip from Midgard?” he asked, finally stepping in to curb the awkwardness of the situation. The crowd was already dispersing, though he could see a few busybodies chattering and pointing in their general direction. Artemis looked at him, and he saw a hint of confusion cross her face. 

“He means Earth,” Thor corrected quickly, offering his arm to her. She accepted it quickly, and then returned her attention back to Loki. 

“It was uneventful, so I suppose pleasant enough,” she told him, maintaining eye contact with him as though she were a man, not a woman. It was refreshing. 

Thor started to walk them toward the exit, and Loki was sure his brother was keen on getting to the feast; he had always been one for food, ever since they were boys. He really ought to be fat. 

“You shouldn’t worry about my father finding you another daughter,” Artemis insisted softly when she turned to him, her head a little closer as she spoke softly. “I’m the last of the High Council. Your love-life is quite safe.”

He produced something of a smile, which she returned before Thor brought her into a different sort of conversation. From there, he pace slowed and he drifted back, walking instead with the Warriors Three – who barely acknowledged him – and Lady Sif. His brother didn’t have the slightest idea just how lucky he was, and Loki was fairly sure he would never know.


	4. Sea of Awkward

Asgard was so different from Olympus. Gone were the open gardens and plethora of natural features, replaced by marvelous metal and stone buildings. There were certainly more people in Asgard than back home, evidenced by the hundreds that welcomed them through the gates of the city when they first arrived. Artemis was on edge the entire time, as she was a little rattled from her journey between Earth and Asgard via the bifrost. It was a rainbow bridge that connected the two words, controlled by a stern, ominous figure in gold armour named Heimdell. He welcomed them stiffly to Asgard after the magical transportation had been accomplished, and Artemis fretted that Nomia was going to vomit all over the initial arrival dome. Mercifully, the human managed to maintain her bowels well enough, and they could go forth into the realm with an escort from the palace. 

All of the servants and luggage were taken one way, and Artemis was marched through the streets with Zeus and Hera as though they were prizes on display. The notion continued to put her in an uncomfortable state, but she managed to produce something of a smile all the same. For the most part, she kept her head down as though she were some obedient daughter and left all the public displays up to her father. It was nice that the crowds were only throwing flowers at them, as it could have been something of a harder variety, but she was still overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people that had showed up as a part of their welcoming committee. Was that everyone? Were there more people scattered across the vast city of glass, steel and rock? 

There wasn’t much nature to be seen, even though there were street gardens and artificial trees littered along the corners of cross-walks. Her father told her that there was immense beauty outside the city, and many people saw fit to go on retreats into the mountains during the holidays. It was a depressing thought, but the idea of a mountain holiday excited her more in that moment than the thought of meeting Prince Thor. 

Speaking of which… That wasn’t quite the disaster she had been expecting, but the initial meeting wasn’t exactly smooth sailing either. She looked pretty, and she knew that she could play the part of the blushing bride-to-be if she needed, but when it came to actually speaking to the prince for the first time, she was at a loss for words. It was clear that Zeus and Odin were old friends, and Hera and the Lady Frigga clearly had some sort of friendly relationship, but none of them saw fit to facilitate the interaction between their betrothed children. The prince reminded her a great deal of Orion; tall, muscular, and strikingly handsome in his attire. However, there was no immediate spark that she had felt with Orion when she first met the human hunter, and when Thor kissed her hand softly, she wanted nothing more than to pull it away and wipe it on her dress.

He wasn’t a slimy fellow, nor did he seem like some greasy being who was out for her title or wealth. Instead, he only seemed as genuinely uncomfortable with their first meeting as she did, though they played it off well with smiles and intermittent eye contact. It wasn’t until the man’s brother, this Loki character, stepped in and offered up some sort of conversation that she felt a fraction of the enormous tension ease away. 

It was difficult to believe they were brothers, as they both looked so different. Thor was tall, wide, blond, chiseled, while his brother was also tall, but much slimmer – as her father had obnoxiously commented on earlier – and incredibly pale by comparison, his hair black and his eyes a startling blue. Blue eyes were hardly special, as they ran in her lineage, but when paired with such dark hair, they certainly stood out. He was softer spoken, but direct, whereas Thor had a voice made for speaking to large halls like their fathers. It was clear why he had been chosen to rule almost immediately. 

The brother fell behind quickly after they started drifting out of the enormous throne room, almost double the size of the Pantheon, and into a nearby hall. There were numerous tables set and ready to be seated at, and Artemis found herself positioned quite a distance away from her father. Zeus was obviously granted a seat near Odin at the head of the table, Hera in tow, but there were already countless individuals filling the seats around them, not a care in the world that Artemis was left floating in a sea of awkward with Thor. Luckily enough, just as he was surrounded by a group of his close companions on one side of the table, Artemis found herself nestled between Callisto and Nomia, their eyes full of reassurance as they managed to take charge of the conversation. 

She marveled at just how easy the trio of handmaidens managed to keep the men around them talking. Only Aora seemed to do it with a flirtatious undertone to her voice, something that Artemis would need to speak with her about, but otherwise things seemed to flow with relative ease once they were in a much larger group. It certainly helped that they all polished off about four bottles of wine between them, which wasn’t enough to get any of them drunk, but there was a more relaxed air around them. 

The food was scrumptious, but different than what she was used to; it was all quite heavy, laden with meats and dark vegetables, whereas Artemis was used to a leafy diet mixed with sweet fruits and lean meats. It would take some adjustment to eat all of this every single day, but she was sure she could manage somehow.

The hall was quite elaborately decorated, with red table cloths and gold chalices littered across the tables. Armour and weaponry hung on the walls, and servants lurked in the shadows to attend to the prestigious guests. As time passed, it grew louder and louder, thanks to the wine no doubt, and Artemis had a chance to look around at the patrons. They were all quite elegant, robed in browns, reds, and cream hues, gold jewelry in their hair and on their arms. Most of the women had dresses that were similar to hers, but she had the only blue one as far as she could tell. Occasionally, she would spot a group looking at her, hardly subtle with the way they craned their neck. She stared back, unwilling to be cowed into submission by a pair of nosy onlookers, but Callisto usually brought her back into the conversation. 

Her trio of handmaidens had dressed in the same outfit, a sign of solidarity behind her. It was a pale purple tunic, one that went just below their knees and barely showed any of their curves. Their facial beauty more than made up for the lack of skin or body shown beneath their clothing, and it was clear that at least two of Thor’s trio of male warriors were interested in her girls. For the most part, it was those six individuals who carried their conversation. Artemis interjected occasionally, which always earned her Thor’s attention. Thor embellished some of the adventure stories that they told, and she heard Loki pipe up a few times, only to be noisily overshadowed by one of the warriors. 

They were called the Warriors Three, and consisted of a portly, round fellow named Volstagg; a dashing, charming man with the most obscenely neat facial hair she had ever seen, Fandral; and finally a mute, stern warrior named Hogun, who only seemed to speak if something was directed his way. So, in actuality, there were only five people carrying the conversation. There was a woman among them, Lady Sif, but she was not included as a Warrior Three. Instead, she seemed more like an afterthought, despite the fact her name was a constant in almost all the stories they regaled her with. She was a fit woman, muscle clearly visible on her arms, with raven hair and bright eyes. She was the one, of all of them, who seemed to be able to correct Thor without any repercussions. 

Artemis took a sip of her wine, relishing the red liquid for a moment, and then set her chalice down. She smiled as she listened to Volstagg’s tale, nodding a few times whenever he stopped to clarify something. Her handmaidens were enraptured, all three of them leaning forward with their elbows on the table, forsaking any table manners they may have started with at the beginning of their feast almost two hours ago.

“And so,” Volstagg continued, a large piece of meat on the end of his thick fork, “as Hogun crawled away from the miserable beast, I did what any man would have done… I leapt upon it and slayed it where it stood!”

“Oh, how brave,” Nomia said brightly, her eyes wide as she picked delicately at her plate of vegetables. “I can see why you are such a mighty warrior, my lord!”

“Now, now, you mustn’t believe everything Volstagg says,” Fandral insisted after he took a quick sip of his drink. “You see, Thor was the one who jumped on the beast-"

“Well, I had every intention of doing it,” the portly man argued as Artemis laughed a little, “but he beat me to it!”

“Intention isn’t action, my friend,” the handsome warrior remarked, shooting a wink in Aora’s direction. “You must only tell true tales… Have you ever faced a harrowing experience, my lady?”

The dark-haired nymph shrugged delicately, and then cleared her throat. “We once hunted a great boar down on Earth… He had immense tusks, which was surprising… He never had much of anything large when he was a man.” 

“When he was a man?” Lady Sif repeated, her well-plucked eyebrows shooting up. 

“Hera turned him into a giant pig when he insulted one of her sons,” Artemis explained lightly. “He wasn’t very good at being an animal… We thought we should put him out of his misery sooner rather than later.” 

“I suppose I’ll have to mind what I say around your mother,” Thor voiced, grinning a little as his friends laughed. “I think I’d make a poor pig, too.”

“I know someone who wouldn’t,” Fandral mused, making Aora giggle as Volstagg shot him a glare. 

Artemis pursed her lips a little as she stared down at her empty plate; she had been full almost an hour ago, but it seemed the food was endless. All that aside, she felt the need to correct Thor, and when she looked up again, she noticed Loki studying her from his seat next to his brother. He turned away when their eyes met, and set about pouring himself another glass of wine. 

“Hera isn’t my mother,” Artemis said after she contemplated the reasons why she should and shouldn’t say it. She knew she shouldn’t knock Hera down in their eyes, as she was bound to do that all on her own, but she didn’t want Thor to think she came from that woman. 

“Beg your pardon?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up as he leaned forward, no doubt unable to hear her over the dull roar of the hall. 

“Hera,” she clarified, “isn’t my mother.”

“Oh…”

“My mother’s name is Leto,” she continued. “She lives on Earth these days… Crete, mostly. Perhaps one day you’ll meet her.”

“Yes,” Thor replied, giving her a nod, “I’d like that.”

She wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to meet her mother or if he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It had sort of been out of the blue, and the conversation around them had dulled considerably. Artemis took another sip of her drink when she heard Fandral clear his throat, but she was saved by Callisto. 

“You really must tell me more about this beast that almost had Hogun,” she demanded as though nothing had happened. “I cannot fathom how such a fierce warrior would succumb to anything!”

The silent man grinned only a little, and he opened his mouth a tad, no doubt ready with an explanation, but Volstagg and Thor continued to story almost in tandem. The conversation lost all depth as they continued with the war and adventure stories, and Artemis was thankful for that. She could listen to tales of bravery and quests all day if it meant she didn’t have to talk to Thor about anything regarding their impending marriage. 

So, she smiled and tried to mimic her handmaidens’ interest in the tales, even though her countless other brothers had done things that she considered more valiant or daring. The Warriors Three seemed proud of what they had done, and Thor was no better with his boasting of dangerous adventures; Artemis had a feeling this was what the usual dinner conversation was about, as Lady Sif seemed to roll her eyes quite a great deal over the course of the discussion. 

Sometime later, she heard music from somewhere in the hall, and when she turned around from her position at the main table, she saw that they had been joined by a band of some kind. The music was swift, loud, and nothing like the soft hum of a lyre or the blended whistle of a pan flute. The people of the hall hardly seemed dignified when they dragged themselves away from their food and drink to dance, coupling up as they twirled around in the large open space beyond the mass of tables. It actually brought a smile to her face when she saw lords and ladies abandon all dignity and embrace the music… 

It was almost human-like, because it certainly didn’t happen at home among the Olympians; she was sure they wanted to assert that they were nothing like Dionysus and his ridiculous parties, but she didn’t know if there was anything wrong with them. It all seemed like a lot of fun, actually. 

“Lady Aora,” she heard Fandral start, which brought her attention back to the people around her, “may I be so bold as to ask you for a dance?”

Aora immediately turned to Artemis, looking over Nomia at her for permission. Fandral also looked at her, and she contemplated her options. She didn’t particularly want her chaste handmaiden dancing with some rogue, but she had a feeling there would be a great deal of disappointment from both parties if she said no. So, she nodded her head a little, and quirked an eyebrow toward the dance floor. Her handmaiden grinned brightly and hopped up, disappearing moments later with the handsome warrior. 

“I’ll watch her,” Callisto insisted softly, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin before she too rose. “Hogun, I’d be honoured if you would escort me for a walk around the hall. I’d love to hear more stories.”

Artemis had never once questioned Callisto’s intentions with men, particularly because she was the best-behaved of all her handmaidens. If she wanted to be alone with Hogun, the warrior who hadn’t said more than two words since she had met him, Artemis saw no reason not to be. Now, Aora with a charming man who was forward enough to ask her to dance? That might have been a different story. However, with Callisto roaming the perimeter of the hall with an escort in tow, she was pleased to have another set of eyes watching the slightly drunker nymph. 

Loki rose to his feet, and even though she had been seated almost directly across from him, she almost forgot he was there. Silent like Hogun, she had only heard him speak at the start of the conversation when the others weren’t so dominant and competitive to tell their stories. For a moment she thought he might ask Nomia to dance, but he instead excused himself, dipping his head a little, and then disappeared into the crowd. It seemed the music had signaled the end of the dinner service, and people all along her long table were dispersing, getting up with a glass or mug of something to chat with different tables. 

The dance floor grew a little rowdier behind her, and with only four of them left at one end of the massive table, it would have been easy to assume that she and Thor were going to end up out there soon with the rest of the dancers. Nomia was decent at making conversation, but Volstagg seemed too engrossed in dessert to contribute much, and she felt as though Thor might be running out of polite things to talk about after such a long dinner. 

A large pair of hands suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, which made her flinch, and she looked up and into the white beard of her father. 

“Well,” she managed, “haven’t seen you for a while. How wonderful of you to venture to this side of the table!”

“You’re a grump when you’ve been drinking,” her father teased, grasping her arm and pulling her to her feet. “Come dance with your father. Hera is too busy for dancing tonight.”

She rolled her eyes a little as she looked in Hera’s direction, hating how engrossed in a conversation with Thor’s mother she seemed; it was fairly obvious what they were talking about, and it made her want to slap the woman. However, her father requested a dance, and she was happy to get away from the table to give it to him. She squeezed Nomia’s shoulder as she left, trying to be reassuring, but it was clear the woman had no problems as long as there was some dessert in front of her. 

Artemis let her father lead her toward the dance floor, ignoring the way some of the people around them studied her when she walked by. It was nice that no one seemed to make too big of a deal that Zeus was among them; on Earth, people trembled before him, and in Olympia they placed him on the same pedestal that the Asgardians seemed to place Odin. However, right here and right now, she could simply share a dance with her father, and aside from the unavoidable staring because of their high profile guest status, it was as if they weren’t anything special at all. 

Unfortunately, both realized once they were out there that they had no idea how to dance to this sort of music, and they resorted to a little bit of awkward swaying on the outskirts of the dance floor. Aora and Fandral were nowhere in sight, but she had confidence that Callisto was keeping an eye on the situation for her. 

“So?”

She looked up at her father’s expectant expression, and then raised her eyebrows. “So?”

“So, what do you think?” he clarified, nodding back toward the table. “Of Thor, I mean.”

“Oh!” Artemis cleared her throat, hating the way he looked so eager for a response, and then shrugged. “I think it’s too early to tell… He seems… nice.”

“Haven’t you two talked about anything yet?” he demanded, rolling his eyes dramatically when she shook her head. “Child… You need to discuss things with him! We won’t be staying forever, and I want to leave knowing this will work for you.”

She cocked her head to the side a hint, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“Go wait out on that balcony,” Zeus told her, pointing toward a nearby doorway, “and I’ll find him… You two must discuss everything as soon as possible.”

“Father-"

“Artemis, you’ll listen to me,” he told her quietly, his voice firm. 

Her argument clearly fell to deaf ears, and he was already gone before she could ask him to explain what he meant by the notion that they wouldn’t be ‘staying forever’. Instead, she watched his retreating form for a moment, weaving his way through the crowd, and then turned, resigned to do as he asked. 

Once she was out of the hall, the air around her had cooled considerably. She took a deep breath, moving to the edge of the balcony, her hands resting on the smooth surface. A light breeze wafted across the open space, and she inhaled deeply again as she spied the city landscape beneath her. It was a lovely view across the horizon, and now that she was out of the crowd and noise, she could feel a peace creeping in. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She nearly jumped away from the source of the voice quite visibly, and she turned back to spy Loki seated on the edge of the balcony’s railing, his hands held up as he smiled at her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling a little. “I didn’t mean to startle you… I thought you saw me.”

“No,” she told him, her heart rate slowing as she regained her composure, “I’m afraid I was lost in my head, and then the city claimed me.”

“It’s been known to do that,” he mused, sliding off the railing and quickly joining her. She watched him survey the horizon, eyes traveling along the outlines of the different building designs, until finally he looked back down to her. Nearly half a head taller, he needn’t crane so much to meet her eyes. “I’ve grown up here my entire life… but to someone outside it, I’m sure it’s a strange place.”

“It’s… different,” she acknowledged with a nod, turning her gaze back out to the city. “Olympus is so… green and soft, old. It hasn’t aged, even though the humans that worship us are long into their technological era.”

“I should like to see it one day,” Loki insisted. “Olympus… It seems worlds away.”

“It feels it,” she admitted without thinking. Artemis certainly didn’t want to appear ungrateful for the wonderful display of hospitality, and she quickly managed to mutter, “I mean, realistically it is…”

She stopped when she felt his hand touch her wrist, and Artemis looked up at him quickly, a little thrown. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like,” he told her earnestly, “to be taken from one’s home and thrust into a new place. I think it’s very… brave.”

Well, she didn’t particularly have a choice, did she? She pursed her lips tightly, and then nodded, forcing a smile up at him. 

“Thank you.”

“I want you to think of me as a friend,” he told her, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. “If you are going to become my new sister, I think… I think we should be friends. If you need anything, something you feel like you can’t ask anyone else, please think of me.”

She retracted her arm, wrapping both around her body instead. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Not kindness,” he corrected. “It’s just good manners, isn’t it? Being a good host…”

She looked across to him again, and he grinned an infectious grin that forced her to smile back.

“So,” Loki sighed, turning just enough so that he could lean on the railing, comfortably facing her. “What do you make of Asgardian high society?”

Artemis followed his gaze back inside and she smirked. “I think it isn’t terribly different from my own… A little rowdier, mind you.”

“I think people are simply happy to have you here,” Loki told her. “They brought out the good wine tonight.”

“Glad I could help people become inebriated on the expensive stock,” she mused, her tension slipping away once more with the light conversation. It hardly felt forced, and despite its lack of substance, Artemis found herself smiling more now than she had all night. 

“Actually,” he started, leaning in a tad closer, “if you…”

Her eyebrows rose when she saw him move away quickly, and she realized they were no longer alone. Thor stood a few feet away, and he scratched the back of his head. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Nonsense, brother,” Loki said before she could get a word in. “I was merely keeping Artemis company while she waited for you.”

He shot her another smile before departing, and Thor nudged his arm when he strolled by. She watched them exchange a look, one that only seemed especially apparent if you actually had a sibling to share that same look with. It was surprising to see such a sense of family here; however, she had only been there for half a day, and she couldn’t start jumping to conclusions now. 

Thor joined her at the edge of the balcony, staring out at the city, and she sighed, the tension rising back in her body as though it had never left. Artemis cleared her throat and drummed her fingers along the railing, and then tried to say something. Unfortunately, Thor seemed to have the same idea, and they ended up talking over each other, and then apologizing profusely. 

“You first.”

“No, it wasn’t… anything important,” Artemis admitted weakly, her cheeks tinting a tad. 

A silence settled over them again, and for a moment or so she listened to the dull chatter from inside the hall, wishing for anything that she wasn’t alone with Thor. He wasn’t a terrible man, but she felt so uncomfortable at the thought of being his wife in this very moment that she would have rather jumped off the balcony than had a serious discussion with him. 

“I meant to find you some flowers,” he said finally, “but compared with the ones in your hair… I think everything would have looked small in comparison.”

“That’s all right,” she told him. “I didn’t… I didn’t expect anything of that kind.”

“Good. I mean,” he paused, “not ‘good’, but I’ll find you something nicer.”

“All right.” 

Her neck actually started to feel stiff the longer they stood together, mostly because she felt that if she moved too much, he might start talking again. They would move passed this, of course. It was only jitters from the first night, but a promising future wasn’t enough to make this discomfort any better. 

“It’s a funny thing,” Thor started after what felt like an eternity, “an arranged marriage.”

She nodded, her eyes still focused on a particularly interesting spiral building in the distance. “It is.”

Her eyes darted back to look at him, but he seemed lost in a world of his own, focusing a bit too hard on a building just as she had done. They both seemed willing to look just about anywhere but at one another. 

“Would you like to dance?” she asked, unable to take the “private time” any longer. They would have plenty of other occasions to discuss their impending marriage, perhaps at a time when they were more comfortable with one another. She had to be logical and rational about this, lest she lose herself. 

“Yes,” he said quickly, clearly relieved to be moving on from the situation. Perhaps he too was nervous about having “the talk” to immediate into their relationship. They had plenty of time. He extended his arm to her, and she took it again, only marginally less awkward now than she was before. 

It was a start, wasn’t it? This was the way it was supposed to feel, right?


	5. Rescue Me

Her room in Asgard was much smaller than her room back home, but it was a fairly easy adjustment due to their similarities. She was given a sizable bed, a vanity set, and a walk-in closet that was already filled by the time she was ready to sleep. Her handmaidens had unpacked everything in a way that mimicked their old placements in her actual room: the make-up and hair accessories were in the same drawers in the vanity, and she had books placed in the same order as before on her nightstand. Her bags were unpacked, shoes were lined up in the closet and a plethora of dresses hung neatly above them. Clean, pressed, orderly. It would have been Aphrodite’s dream, but Artemis felt uncomfortable at the array of elegant fashion for her to wear. She struggled enough in her dress for the arrival ceremony and dinner; the thought of wearing more restricting ones, or ones with larger skirts was daunting, to say the least. 

Shockingly enough, dancing with Thor was far less awkward than talking to Thor, and once they had joined the majority of the guests out on the dance floor, things were much smoother. They were surrounded by pleasantly drunk, happy individuals, and all three of her handmaidens were always nearby in order to swoop in if needed. There was a lot of bouncing around, swinging, and movement that was not necessarily present in an Olympian dance ceremony. It was rowdier, louder, and certainly a great deal rougher with so many people coming together in a small space. At the time, she wasn’t quite sure how to act; she was supposed to be the elegant, “beautiful”, exotic bride from Olympus, but as Thor flung her around amongst the Warriors Three on the dance floor, laughing merrily as she squealed (but managed to keep up), Artemis was torn. Should she behave like Hera wanted, or the way that seemed to make Thor happiest – ridiculous and outgoing? 

She decided that the alcohol in their systems was justification for her lack of ladylike behaviour, and she was sure everyone would feel the same. When the night came to an end sometime early in the morning, Artemis was escorted to her room by Callisto, who helped wash her make-up and hair quickly, and then tucked her into bed. It was a whirlwind night that felt as though it had gone on forever, and when she finally crawled into the plush bed that felt wholly unfamiliar, she was asleep within minutes. 

However, she woke with quite the startled gasp of air the following morning. In that odd world between sleep and awake, one sometimes forgets oneself if they aren’t in comfortable surroundings. When she awoke that morning, she had forgotten where she was. Instead of waking to the usual sight of her window with a glorious view of Olympus, she was facing some strange brown wall in a bed that did not smell like home. The panic was only momentary, and the more conscious she became, the more she realized exactly where she was and that the day before had not been some sort of dream. She rubbed her eyes, slowly blinking out the sleep as she sat up. There was a large window on the opposite end of the room with no glass, which seemed to be a custom here in Asgard, and she could feel the cool morning breeze billow in through the nearly sheer curtains. 

There was nothing in the room to indicate the time, but the fact that her hair was nearly dry on its own meant at least six hours had gone by, and it had to be late in the morning. She sauntered across the room, her loose night dress flowing around her knees, and drifted into the en-suite lavatory to complete her morning ritual. Face scrubbed, hair brushed, bladder relieved, and she was ready to face the day. As she picked bits of the previous night’s make-up off her eyelashes, she heard the door to her room open and close gently, and she quickly went to investigate the new arrival. 

“Morning,” Nomia greeted brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Soundly,” Artemis replied as she flopped down on her bed, feet dangling over the edge. “Is your room adequate?”

“Oh, it’s very nice,” the redhead admitted as she took a seat next to her, legs tucked up beneath her slim figure. “All three of us share this giant room at the top of the tower… You should see it!”

“Where are Callisto and Aora?” Artemis inquired, only now curious as to why the other two hadn’t come along. Nomia cleared her throat, eyes cast down, and began picking at her nails. “Nomia. Where are they?”

“Hera was so impressed with your hair styles from yesterday that she took Aora and Callisto to do her hair this morning,” the human admitted, glancing up at Artemis sheepishly. “I guess they are better at hair than I am, and Hera sent me in their stead.”

Artemis rolled her eyes; it wasn’t even noon yet, and already her step-mother sought to drive a wedge between them. No, she couldn’t let it bother her. Hera was known for doing whatever she wished if it meant she could have her way, and if she desired Artemis’ handmaidens to see to that red mass of hair on her head, so be it. 

“I think you make wonderful hairstyles,” Artemis reassured her, giving the human a light pat on the knee. “We’ll stick with something simple today.”

The girl smiled warmly, and then motioned to the chair in front of the large vanity, “Why don’t you get comfortable, my lady? I’ll check to see where your breakfast is.”

“Won’t I be eating with everyone else?” Artemis inquired as she rose, her night dress falling loosely around her frame. Nomia shook her head. 

“No, they’ve already had their morning meal,” she admitted. “I wasn’t present, but apparently only your parents were awake to join King Odin and his wife. Everyone else is still asleep.”

“Ah-"

“And Frigga suggested you take a trip to the market today,” Nomia continued quickly, running both hands through her thick red hair. “Hera agreed… It will only be the three of you. I suspect Thor’s mother would like to bond a little.”

Artemis came to a halt, her hand on the back of the slim chair, and then glared at her handmaiden in the mirror. “I am to bond with Hera and Frigga?”

“Mostly Thor’s mother, I think,” Nomia said, grasping her lightly by the shoulders and maneuvering her into the seat. “She seems very nice… nothing like Hera.”

“You always know what to say to please me,” Artemis chuckled, pleased that Nomia’s opinion of Hera was almost as low as her own. Nomia shrugged and told her it was easy to dislike Hera without much effort. She then darted out the door, only to return moments later with a slightly flustered looking male servant. Artemis gave him a once over and quickly spotted her breakfast on the tray in his hands. It seemed fairly basic, and she was sure if she had actually been awake for the communal meal, she would have had more options. 

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Nomia said quickly, ushering him out with a wave of her hands. 

She snatched the tray from him before he could say anything, and Artemis knew he was being waved off because she wasn’t technically ‘decent’ enough for other servants to see, especially a male servant. Nomia set the tray down on the bed, and then delivered each individual piece on it for Artemis to inspect. The plates had to be silver, or some sort of precious metal, and she felt uncomfortable that such an enormous fuss was being made over her. Perhaps it was the way for Thor’s family to show they were well off, but she certainly didn’t need expensive cutlery to eat some eggs and fruit first thing in the morning. 

“Now,” Nomia started as Artemis dug into her fruit, “what shall we do with your hair today?”

Artemis studied her blonde locks in the mirror, which were currently crinkly and out of sorts because she slept on it while it was wet. She pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “Let’s brush it first.”

“Yes,” Nomia agreed, rummaging through one of the nearby drawers for one of the softer brushes, “and then I think we shall leave it down, but with a little bit… up.”

“I am in your careful hands, Nomia,” Artemis sighed, wincing a little as the human began to brush her hair. 

Despite the softness of the brush, Nomia still managed to make her cringe as she worked out some of the knots, clearly not accustomed to handling Artemis’ hair as Aora was. She couldn’t blame the girl for her mistreatment of her locks; none of them were used to dressing her or covering her face in make-up. Her handmaidens were an integral part of her hunting party, and that was where their chores had always been. Even though they were clearly skilled with these sorts of feminine duties, it was out of their element when they included Artemis. 

As she ate her morning meal, Artemis watched the small handmaiden carefully attempt to create some sort of elegant style for her straight hair. In the end, however, she managed to bring the front half of her hair back, thus making some sort of half-up half-down concoction that looked remarkably plain, as though they were going hunting in the springtime. 

“Perfect,” Artemis praised before Nomia could apologize. “Perhaps you should do my hair all the time.”

“That’s not a very nice joke, my lady,” the girl remarked sullenly. “I did try.”

“It isn’t a jest,” Artemis laughed as she turned back in her chair, taking the girl’s small hands in her own. “You know I like simplicity. This is just fine for the occasion.”

The girl flushed under her praises, and then set about dabbing a little colour on her eyelids. That was all she was willing to let her do, as make-up was hardly something she enjoyed enduring. When they finally finished, Nomia plucked a dress from the closet, and after presenting Artemis with several options after she rejected the first, Artemis finally decided on a dress. She opted for a cream coloured number with short sleeves and a slightly lower neckline. It had considerable flare around the bottom, but that meant she could hide her bare feet beneath it. 

“No, no, my lady,” Nomia sighed, producing a pair of sandals for her. “Hera insists you wear shoes… It’s customary here to-"

“Fine,” Artemis groaned, rolling her eyes as she snapped her fingers at the girl, “give them here.”

Nomia scampered across the room and placed the shoes in her hand, clearly aware of her irritation as she shoved them onto her feet. She preferred to never wear shoes, even if she was hunting. Her feet were worn and hard from all the time she spent in the outdoors, and simply felt ridiculous whenever something covered them. She hadn’t been forced into heels or anything of that sort, but this was almost bad enough. 

“You look very pretty, my lady,” Nomia said as she admired the final product of their hour-long prep session. “Perhaps Thor may join you… Did you enjoy his company last night?”

“Did I enjoy his company?” Artemis repeated, her blonde eyebrows shooting up. “I… You saw us. Every moment that you saw was all that I experienced.”

“He seemed to like to dance with you,” Nomia admitted. “That’s a wonderful start.”

“All right, all right,” Artemis sighed, rolling her eyes a little. “Try to reign in the enthusiasm, Nomia.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She ran her hands over the front of her dress, and then began to mentally prepare herself for an entire day with Hera. They hadn’t spent an entire day together with no outside help from their servants in eons it seemed, and she certainly did not want to break that record. However, if Frigga had arranged it, Artemis knew she was going to be on her best behaviour, and that meant Hera should follow her example. Frigga was going to be her mother-in-law, and she obviously wanted to have some sort of good impression on her if she were to join the older woman’s family. 

Now that she was dressed suitably enough, Nomia added a gold necklace to hang in the low scoop of her dress. They left her room moments later, Artemis wincing at the pinch of her shoes as they strolled through the marble halls of Odin’s palace. Her father was nowhere to be seen, but when they eventually arrived in a large hall on the ground level of the giant structure, she immediately spotted Frigga and Hera, along with her two missing handmaidens. Honestly, Hera had brought her own, so the woman didn’t need to steal hers!

“Oh, look who is finally ready to join us,” Hera trilled as she approached, her purple eyes sparkling as they met Artemis’ bright blues. “We thought you might sleep the day away!”

“Well, my son is still asleep,” Frigga mused happily, dressed to impress in an elegant pale pink number, her curly blonde hair in an elegant updo on the top of her head. “I think the young sleep late after drinking… It’s only normal.”

“Good morning,” Artemis greeted, bowing her head a little to Frigga when she could think of nothing else to say. “Thank you for inviting me on a tour of the markets… I was very excited when my Nomia filled me in on our plans for the day.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Frigga insisted, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze. “I thought you should see something different… Life would be boring if you were only in the palace.”

“Agreed,” Artemis laughed, pleased with the way she thought. 

“This is a very lovely dress,” the older woman commented, giving her an appraising look. “The colour compliments your skin tone wonderfully.”

“Thank you,” Artemis murmured, unaccustomed to such praises from another woman. 

“Yes, but it’s a bit low, don’t you think?” Hera interjected, looking pointedly down at the neckline. “Thank goodness someone had the sense to put that necklace on you.”

“Where would I be without someone to dress me?” Artemis droned, a false smile on her face as she gazed back at Hera. 

“You’d think we brought a son instead of a daughter, I can tell you that much,” Hera giggled for Frigga, rolling her eyes a little. “You’ll have to take us to some of the finest shops you have, my dear… Artemis certainly didn’t bring enough with her.”

“Of course.” 

Artemis shot a desperate look to her handmaidens, who could clearly do nothing to help her with the situation, and was then whisked off to the palace grounds. They had two male soldiers escort them at a distance, but otherwise it was the three of them against the world. 

What a horribly depressing thought!

The only small mercy she received came from the fact that Hera primarily engaged Frigga in conversation, which meant Artemis simply had to follow in tow as the two older women chatted. It was quite easy to see the two got along; Hera needed someone to indulge in her obsessive chatter about herself and her own desires, and Frigga seemed to get immense pleasure out of making other people happy. The older Asgardian woman tried on several occasions to bring Artemis into conversations as they wandered the expensive shops of the downtown core, but Hera always managed to dominate the conversation in a way that brought them back to discussing her. 

Downtown Asgard City was like a mixture of the old and the new. She noticed a number of technologies that were similar to modern humans, like lamp posts and bright street signs. There were no automobiles, but people instead walked everywhere, a servant or two trailing behind to help carry a particularly heavy load. She saw the old in its architecture and the shape of the buildings, in the fountains and statues that littered the streets, and the accessories of the average citizen. It was a city that possessed its own sort of beauty, and after living a life between Earth and Olympus, she was sure she could become adjusted to it fairly quickly. 

The one thing she would never become accustomed to is the process of shopping. Hera and Frigga made her try on so many things in various shops over the course of a three hour period, and each time she stood uncomfortably as Hera scrutinized and Frigga complimented, their words almost canceling each other out as they studied her. They purchased a number of gowns for her, insisting she would wear them to all kinds of social occasions, but she barely saw the need for half of them. Some looked the same, others different, but they all started to blend into one after trying on dozens. Hera seemed pleased to see her in Asgardian clothing, but Artemis found the fabric thick and heavy, and if she were to remain here, she may specially order garments from Olympus for the sake of comfort. 

Even though they had been shopping for quite some time, she certainly didn’t feel as though she had seen a lot of the city centre. In fact, as they departed the most recent shop, she realized they had only actually gone up and down both sides of one street, and she was already exhausted. Her feet were aching beneath the restraints of her shoes. 

“Why don’t we stop for something to eat?” Frigga suggested when she caught sight of Artemis’ slightly pained expression. “My feet are starting to get sore.”

She knew it was a lie, but she smiled a genuine smile at the woman all the same for saying it. Hera, however, asked if they might visit one more shop before they stop, and Artemis felt her feet screeching with each step she took behind the pair. 

“Darling! What a surprise!”

“Hello, mother!”

Artemis perked up at the sound of a familiar male voice, and she peered around Hera to spy the princely Loki approaching them, flanked with no protection, clearly out for a stroll in the city. He embraced his mother quickly, and then kissed Hera’s hand, all smiles for the ladies. His eyes eventually found her, and she managed to produce a forced grin. 

“Are you ladies enjoying your tour?” he inquired, his hands clasped behind his back, dressed sharply in a black coat with green embellishments and a pair of black trousers to match. 

“I always love to see Asgard’s shops,” Hera admitted, “but Artemis is dragging her feet now… No stamina, my girl!”

Their eyes met again, and Artemis tried her best to get across a silent message to the man who had offered her friendship the night before: help. Please, for all things good in this world, help!

“Perhaps,” Loki suggested, leaning in a little toward his mother, “shopping is not quite Lady Artemis’ forte. You should take her down to the actual marketplace.”

“Oh, it’s quite exhausting down there,” Frigga stated. “There are so many people… I always feel as though I should have a man with me.”

Artemis glanced back at the two security officials behind her; clearly they did not count. 

“I would be more than happy to show your daughter a little more,” Loki told Hera, “but only with your permission, of course.”

Hera turned back to eye Artemis, scrutinizing her face quickly, “Oh, well, do you want to see something else?”

“I am enjoying my shopping,” Artemis lied quickly, her heart pounding happily at the thought of escaping more dress trials, “but I am also interested in seeing all of Asgard. I would be honoured to have such a prestigious guide.”

“Oh, don’t flatter his ego,” Frigga chuckled as she gave his arm a pat. “Thank you, Loki… I think Artemis would benefit from a change of scenery.”

She hoped that Frigga was not put off by Artemis’ willingness to leave them, but this venture really was not something she enjoyed. Whatever Loki had planned was going to be a tremendous improvement from the current course of the day. 

“I’ll have her back for a nice lunch at the palace,” Loki insisted, offering his arm to her. “Perhaps Thor might be awake by then…”

She was instantly by his side, her arm locked securely around his, and she quickly thanked his mother for a lovely tour of the shops. They bid both women farewell, and within minutes they were alone, away from the nitpicking of Hera and the niceties of Frigga. 

“Thank you,” she muttered, breathing a sigh of relief. “Shopping certainly isn’t something I can do for long periods.”

“You did look a little miserable when I spotted you,” he told her, shooting her a grin when she glanced up at him. “I thought the noble thing to do would be to rescue you.”

“Again, thank you,” she remarked as they turned away from the main street and through a slim alley. “Where are you taking me?”

“Well, off the top of my head,” he started, “I thought you might appreciate an actual market and not just shops where noblewomen buy their dresses.”

They filed out of the alley and into a completely different world, one filled with stands and exotic smells, bustling with people and noise. They didn’t necessarily stand out, as there were well-dressed Asgardians in the fray, but it was certainly incredible the difference a street made in regards to the shopping experience. Her eyes widened as she took in the delights before her, clinging to Loki as they navigated the true marketplace together. 

“Oh, look,” Artemis said happily in spite of herself, pointing at a stand brimming with weaponry. Naturally, that was what caught her attention the most. She half-expected Loki to insist that a proper lady shouldn’t want to look at anything sharp and pointy, but instead he weaved them through the crowd so she could get a proper look at everything the merchant had to offer. The man seemed pleased to have Loki at his table, and immediately began offering the pair deals on his merchandise. 

“Now, now,” Loki laughed, holding up his hand. “You need to pander to the lady. She’s the one interested in your stock.”

The dark-skinned man turned to speak with her, but she was already lost as she examined the wall of bows lined up behind him. 

“Goddess of the Hunt,” Loki mused as he stood slightly behind her, his voice in her ear. “I should have known a bow would interest you.”

“Hera would never let me bring that back,” Artemis sighed woefully. She suddenly felt him place his hand, large and warm, on the small of her back, and with his spare hand he directed her to a table filled with knives. 

“Perhaps something smaller?” he suggested. “I think a lady should always arm herself. A knife is easy to conceal.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, stepping forward and out of his grasp to examine the merchant’s collection. 

She ran her fingers along the blades, trying to get a sense of each weapon beneath her. Knives were usually a secondary weapon to her, but now that she had to keep herself from a bow, it may not be a bad choice. She was sure Callisto had packed several of her knives, but it was clear that Loki was intent on getting her something. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him haggling with the merchant, judging their conversation based on his hand gestures; he really wanted her to see him as a friend, a confidant. It was interesting, but a tad suspicious all the same. However, she wasn’t about to turn down a shot at getting a free weapon. 

She finally settled on a slim one with a silver handle; it was plain, discrete, and could easily fit just about anywhere on her person without arousing suspicion. When she showed her choice to Loki, he smiled and quickly paid the man, then told Artemis to sit on a nearby stool. Frowning a little, she did as she was told, her new knife in hand, and then quirked an eyebrow when Loki kneeled before her. 

“I had him throw in an ankle holster,” he explained, showing her the leather straps and holder. “May I?”

For some reason, it felt as though it would have been rude to deny him, and she quickly nodded her head, eyes darting around to see who might be watching them. No one seemed to pay them any heed; even the merchant had moved on to different customers at this point. She straightened her foot as Loki raised her dress a little, sliding the holster over her foot and up to a secure position on her ankle. Her skin prickled at the sensation, though she immediately cursed it for doing so. He barely seemed to notice, instead too focused on getting it to be the proper size, adjusting it several times so that it fit properly. 

She placed the sheathed knife in his hand when he held it out to her, and watched as he slipped the weapon into the holster. It felt a little awkward at first, but all weapons would become a part of your body if you left them on long enough. 

“Now, stand up,” he ordered, helping her to her feet and then studying the hemline. “You can’t see a thing… No one will notice!”

“A fine addition to my wardrobe, I think,” Artemis agreed, pleased with the purchase. 

“You mustn’t tell Thor I bought this for you,” he said suddenly, dropping his voice a little. She thought the reasons might be because he had placed it on her ankle in a way that seemed a tad too intimate, but instead he explained. “He really wanted to be the first to buy you something, but you seemed so excited and I couldn’t resist.”

She gave his arm a light pat, and then winked a little. “It’ll be our secret.”

It was surprising how easy it was to communicate with this man considering they had only met the day before. However, he was intelligent, carried a conversation, and always seemed to have something to say that wasn’t denigrating to her as a person. She could sense a flirtatious vibe emanating from him, but Artemis had always assumed that was the way the two sexes communicated best. He was the brother of her husband-to-be, and she was sure he only wanted to get everything off on a good foot. 

They only went through about half of that market before Artemis told him she needed to get something to eat. She didn’t want to come across as a whiny child, but breakfast felt like a century ago, and she was ready for that fine palace lunch he had promised his mother. So, he led her out of the marketplace with an expertise that made her jealous, and she soon found herself strolling along the outskirts of the city. 

“I find this is a nicer walk back to the palace,” he explained as he gestured out to the glistening lake on the other side of a small rocky fence. “The city can be a little overwhelming sometimes.”

“Is it a short walk?” Artemis inquired, her feet dying a slow, excruciating death. “My feet are a little sore.”

Quite the understatement, but she was trying to curb her complaining as they were already leaving the market on account of her hunger. 

“Well, you’re in luck then,” he laughed. “I actually left my horse to graze nearby with a servant… She would be more than happy to help you home.”

“Oh, that isn’t necessary,” she started, but Loki was already moving swiftly over a small bridge nearby, at the other side of which she spotted a light brown horse munching contently on the dark green grass. He returned a moment later, horse in tow, servant out of sight, and then offered to help her up. She certainly didn’t need help getting on a horse, as she had lived on the back of one since she was a girl, but she had a feeling he was like his mother and enjoyed helping others. So, she gripped the reigns as he hoisted her up, holding the horse still as she positioned herself in an awkward little side-sit, legs dangling over together. 

“Are you all right?” he asked as he took hold of the horse’s harness.

“Dresses are not meant for riding,” Artemis insisted as she tucked the plethora of fabric under her legs, “but I’m fine, thank you.”

Loki urged the horse forward, and Artemis was surprised with the ease of the ride back to the palace. Her feet sighed a pleased sigh of relief, but she could still feel them throbbing beneath the constraints of the sandals. As soon as she was inside, she planned to get rid of these ridiculous shoes and burn them. They spent the majority of the ride back to the palace in a relaxed silence, and Artemis was in awe of the splendor just outside the city limits. Glorious lakes, streams, and fields lurked beyond the realm of technology, and she wanted nothing more than join nature rather than return to the palace. However, it was only her second day here, and all of that would come in time.

She sighed as they entered the palace courtyard, a little sad that they would be cutting their time short so quickly, and also that it meant she would probably have to go sit with Thor now if he was awake. That was a prospect she wanted less than the shopping venture with Hera. 

Loki brought the horse to a halt near the entrance of the palace corridors, and then nodded ahead, “I recall those three being yours…”

Artemis spotted her trusted handmaidens waiting in the wing, and she felt a touch more confident about returning to the palace already. 

“Yes, those are mine,” she agreed, leaning down to place her hands on his shoulders as he offered to help her down. Unfortunately, the hem of her dress hitched up on his hand when he went for her waist, and he ended up grazing a little bit of thigh in the process.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, retracting his hands as soon as she had both feet on the ground. She felt her cheeks colour, and immediately felt like an idiotic little girl. Artemis did not blush. The thought of blushing made her blush more than Loki’s brief contact with her thigh, and she was instantly embarrassed at her response. 

“That’s fine,” she muttered, smoothing her skirts down.

“Oh,” he said suddenly, holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, “you seem to have gotten a bit of a sun burn today. I know Asgard is a little closer to the sun than Olympus… Perhaps you should wear some sort of cream before you go out again?”

“I’ll… consider it,” Artemis said quickly, mortified that he had seen and wrongly assumed she had burned her face. “Thank you for everything today… I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Yes, I’ll be in shortly,” he told her, and she shot him a quick smile before darting off toward her girls. 

* * *

Loki smiled a little as he watched Artemis’ lithe figure retreat into the shade provided by a nearby domed door, her handmaidens already waiting at the entrance for her. He knew it was not a sun burn on her cheeks, and they certainly weren’t closer to the sun than Olympus; he had made her blush. It was a little gratifying to know that he had caused an actual physical response from a woman with just a little bit of indecent touching. He hadn’t planned it, but it played out nicely. He heard from his father that his mother, Hera, and Artemis planned to spend the day at the market in order to show Hera and Artemis some of the Asgardian shopping flavour. They got off to a bit of a late start because Artemis apparently ‘lounged’ around in bed for too long, according to her step-mother. 

Hadn’t she seen that it was nearly afternoon and Thor was still sleeping last night’s alcohol out of his system? The Warriors Three were nowhere to be seen, and even Lady Sif hadn’t come down for their communal breakfast. So, in actuality, Artemis was one of the first children of the bunch to even show her face, aside from Loki. He thought it a little ridiculous that his brother sought to spend the day in bed immediately after his future bride had arrived, and if he wasn’t going to take advantage of the chance to show her the sights of the downtown core, Loki saw an opportunity for himself to shine. He hadn’t expected much, but he picked up on the tension between Hera and Artemis almost immediately after the girl told Thor that the woman wasn’t her real mother, and he thought that giving her a chance to escape from her for a little while would put him in her good books. 

Now, he wasn’t keeping score, but if he was, after today he should have been at least two or three points ahead of his brother when it came to Artemis. The initial plan was still in place; Loki wanted to prove to himself, and anyone else, that he was just as capable of having something that Thor was so graciously given without a second thought. It certainly helped that Artemis was a charming girl: eloquently spoken, easy on the eyes, and a bit of wit to tie it all together into one appealing package. If she hadn’t been the way she was, Loki may have called his game off because she wouldn’t be worth the effort. But she was. She was worth every bit of effort, despite the fact he could predict their future if he was successful: feelings may develop, and he would feel a glowing sense of accomplishment in his abilities, but she would still marry Thor by the time his brother was to be made king. 

So, was it a fruitless mission? Perhaps. However, the blush on her cheeks and the swell of pride that it garnered from him made him question just how fruitless this whole thing might be. 

Lost in a world of his own, Loki led his horse back to the stables, barely away of his surroundings. He had been here so many times in the courtyard of the palace, sometimes with a servant and sometimes alone. Normally, someone had his horse saddled and waiting whenever he wanted to go out riding, and if he had the time when he was finished, Loki was the one to settle the beast back into her stall. 

She was a magnificent creature, glistening in the sun after the day’s heat took its toll on her, and Loki had an immense appreciation for the animal. Despite her sometimes skittish tendencies, she always seemed somewhat pleased to see him when he paid her a visit, and she was remarkably calm whenever he cleaned and groomed her himself. Thor’s previous horse had been an absolute brute, and while it made for an effective battle stallion, the thing was a monster on the servants to tend to. Loki, on the other hand, had had his horse for years at this point, and he knew precisely what to expect. She whinnied softly behind him as they approached her stall, tail flicking in the direction of Thor’s stallion across the way. He grinned a little at her flirtatious snort, and then began removing her harness.

“You rode beautifully today, pet,” he told her, running his hand along her snout affectionately. “Perhaps we’ll go again soon.”

She snorted again, and Loki heard someone clear their throat at the opposite end of the stall. Frowning, he glanced around his horse and spotted none other than the Lady Sif leaning against the gate of the pen. His frown quickly turned into something of a friendly grin, and he stepped around his beast as she sauntered forward to munch on some of the greens his servants had left her. 

“Good afternoon, Lady Sif,” he greeted, hanging the harness on a nearby tack. “I’m afraid she’s a little worn for the day. I’d suggest riding your own horse.”

The dark-haired woman said nothing, and instead watched him as he grabbed a brush and went to work on the beast’s hind leg. He glanced back at her every so often, but she continued to remain mute. If anything, Sif wore a highly unimpressed expression on her normally lovely face, and Loki pondered what he had done this time to earn her ire. 

“I know she’s a beautiful horse,” Loki continued as the silence progressed, “but you aren’t really getting her best side at the moment…”

“What are you doing with her?”

“Beg your pardon?”

He looked back at Sif, his head cocked to the side. He had heard exactly what she said, but he wanted her to repeat and clarify. There were several ‘hers’ in his life at this given moment, and she would really need to be more specific; did she mean the horse or his mother? Things could be seriously misconstrued when one wasn’t careful with the way they said things. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” she insisted, her voice softening as she leaned into the stall, arms resting on the gate. “You should not monopolize Artemis’ time… She’s here for Thor.”

“Monopolize her time?” Loki repeated, his eyebrows furrowing, “I don’t… quite understand what you mean. It was a mere coincidence that we were at the market at the same time, and I rescued her from her pompous step-mother. If anything, I’ve done Thor a favour because I, unlike him, am working toward strengthening the family ties.”

“You can play that game with your parents,” Sif warned him, “but you aren’t fooling me. She’s for your brother, and I suggest you keep your distance so they can get to know one another.”

“Oh, do you?” he mused, folding his arms across his chest, nodding a few times. His horse snorted from her trough, no doubt sharing his sentiment. “Where do you suggest I might find my dear brother this morning? Hmm? Should I check your bed first or his?”

He watched her jaw open a little, and she blinked back a shocked look. Sif seemed to scramble for her words momentarily, and he took a few steps forward, closing the space between them. 

“Oh, I’m not judging you,” he told her earnestly. “Your business with my brother is your own, and I think you two are puzzle pieces that fit together quite smoothly.”

He noticed her jaw clench at the comment; did she really think none of them knew of her affair with Thor? Loki spent a great deal of time with his brother and the band of warriors that trailed after him, and they were hardly secretive with their longing glances and sudden tandem disappearances. He smirked a little; now she knew he had something on her. 

“Here’s what I suggest,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper as she stared pointedly in another direction, her lips pressed firmly together. “You keep your advice to yourself when it comes to the complex world of my family and our relations, and I’ll never tell a soul of your… special bond with my brother.”

Her eyes immediately went to his, and he stared back at her, unwavering as she glared. Stare as hard as she wishes – Lady Sif never had and never would scare him. He finally flashed her a dashing smile, his eyes still decidedly cool, and watched as she stormed off across the courtyard in submission. His chest swelled with pride as he inhaled deeply, pleased with himself; he did adore his ability to talk someone into defeat rather than beat them. It was much more satisfying to battle with words than weapons, because when you won, you won because of your wit and intelligence, not by the blade of your weapon. 

“I don’t think we’ll have any more problems with her,” Loki murmured as he resumed brushing his mare. The creature snorted softly one last time, and he grinned; it felt good to win.


	6. The Archer

Artemis was going absolutely insane. She hadn’t been indoors for this duration in centuries, or so it seemed, and every fibre of her being was itching to get back to the wilderness. Three long weeks of marble corridors and floors, fake pools of water in various rooms, and enormous windows that gave views of the skyline, but not the natural one, were enough to make Artemis lose what little patience she had for this whole ordeal. She absolutely hated being inside this long; it made her anxious, irritable, and impatient with just about everyone, which was the exact opposite of the persona she was supposed to portray in public. Three weeks of heavy dinners, outings with Hera and Frigga, and forced conversations with Thor in the gardens or some other pseudo-romantic location: it was all too much for her. 

Hera was absolutely thrilled at Artemis’ discomfort, or so she assumed. The older goddess seemed to revel in every cold smile and forced laugh that Artemis produced, whereas her father usually shot her a reproachful look that indicated she ought to try harder to enjoy herself. It was only her handmaidens that seemed to share her complete and utter distaste for life in the castle; Callisto was quite short with the staff when it came to mistakes, Aora groaned every chance she got about the state of their feet after wearing suitable palace footwear for so long, and Nomia simply seemed depressed. Naturally, all three of her servants were far better actresses than she and could pull off a genuinely happy outer appearance on command. 

It wasn’t as though her life was especially difficult here, but it simply wasn’t to her taste. She was spoiled with a fine wardrobe, one that would put Aphrodite’s to shame. Along with her three choice handmaidens, Frigga had arranged for an army of extra personnel to attend to her every need, some of them almost instinctively aware of her desires before she could voice them. The palace was vast, and almost nothing aside from personal bedrooms and a chamber here and there was off-limits to her. The food was always hot and delicious, and there had been numerous feasts, parties, and bonfires in the great hall to do for entertainment. She really ought to have been happy, but she couldn’t bring herself to be inside her marble cage. 

Thor was a decent man. She learned all about his victories in other realms with the Warriors Three. His mother absolutely adored her eldest boy and spoke nothing but loving words about him. The servants were always pleased to see him. He smiled earnestly, laughed loudly, and drank heartily. However, he had no real appeal to her. Oh, she was sure she would be happy enough with him in time. In time, she might possibly even love him as a wife ought to love her husband, but that would take time indeed. He was arrogant, a little presumptuous, and seemed to charge into whatever lay ahead of him wholeheartedly without the slightest bit of provocation. In a way, he reminded her of Ares: full of bravado, yet he lacked her brother’s darkness. No, the darkness seemed to be saved for his brother. 

Loki had been good on his word to be her friend whenever she desired one as of late, though their time together was usually dictated by group gatherings. She was so seldom ever alone, which by default meant they were hardly alone together. If they were, it was usually for a short amount of time, in which he might manage to make her produce some sort of genuine smile for a moment or so until they were interrupted. He was much quieter than his brother, but she certainly noticed a few things that others might have ignored. 

Loki liked to have his say in his brother’s stories, usually correcting or downplaying some role or another that might have been boasted about too much. He was also very keen on impressing his father, something that anyone with a pair of eyes might have noticed, but Odin seemed oblivious to whenever it occurred. He was just as skilled as her girls were when he needed to act, but Artemis made a habit of watching him when the attention was quickly shifted away from him, the spotlight back on Thor, and she could see the irritation plain in his eyes, in the tension of his lips. 

You see, the brother was a mystery to her. She was used to pompous men, sensitive men, and men who longed for the heat of battle; Artemis had spent many years of her long life viewing that sort of behaviour among her enormous family. Ares the Bold, Ares the Warmonger. Apollo the Sweet, Apollo the Just. Dionysus the Lush, Dionysus the Merry. Hermes the Cunning, Hermes the Trickster. Artemis had grown up with many men, so when it came to assessing the qualities of her soon-to-be husband, it wasn’t terribly difficult to read the persona he put forth. Loki, however, was somewhat of a curiosity to her because she knew what she saw at dinners and parties was not the actual Loki, but she never had a moment to see the real one. 

Naturally, she hadn’t shared any of these thoughts with anyone. Her girls did enjoy gossiping whenever she permitted it, but Artemis did not want anyone to notice that her thoughts lingered longer on her future brother-in-law than they did on her future husband. None of her handmaidens would have said a thing against it, but she worried more about it getting back to Hera, who would then tell her father, and then there would be some speech about appropriateness, and perhaps her hound would be taken away in order to ensure compliance. She did not want or need any of that, so Artemis knew that sometimes it was best to keep her opinions to herself. 

Thus far, she was lucky in that both Odin and Frigga seemed to like her. In fact, everyone, Thor included, usually seemed perfectly happy to engage in some sort of conversation with her, or regale her with a story of their own. It certainly helped that her father and Odin had fallen back into their old routines with war stories and secret rides out into the countryside to do whatever old men thought necessary to continue their age-old friendship. 

Frigga was an incredibly sweet woman, a just queen that Artemis in no way thought she could ever replace. She seemed highly devoted to her family, and personally handled the repair of all of her sons’ and husband’s clothing. Whenever she could, she told Artemis stories about Thor’s childhood, and always cast an affectionate eye in his and Loki’s direction whenever she mentioned them. Sometimes, yes, she seemed to disapprove of her eldest son’s boasting, but not in a way that seemed irritated or flustered, but rather in a subdued proudness with a hint of scolding regarding arrogance. Everyone adored her. She was the apple of Odin’s eye, and Artemis had never seen a relationship so sturdy – though that was hardly saying much considering the high rate of infidelity and adultery that occurred in her own family. Perhaps Odin and Frigga merely had an average relationship, and the ones she had seen back home were incredibly distorted at this point. 

Today was the first day that she had done something different since she arrived. After lunch, which she was forced to endure with Hera and Frigga once again as they discussed the look of her wedding dress, Nomia informed her that Thor had invited all four of them down to watch him, Loki, and the Warriors Three train in their arena. It was a little insulting that he thought she would actually enjoy watching him throw heavy things around and hit targets, but she would have taken anything to get out of an afternoon of knitting. She liked Frigga, really, but the woman was very keen on showing her tips and tricks for mending armour and other garments, and Artemis would rather shove the needles in her face than endure that for another hour. 

So, once she made a graceful exit from her luncheon, she hurried up to her bedroom to change out of the formal dress Callisto had guilted her into wearing that morning. Instead, Artemis picked a dress that fell only to her knees and was merely a plain brown colour. It might have been confused with one of her hunting tunics, but it had a rim of gold embellishment along the circular neckline, thus differentiating it from something Hera might have scoffed at. Artemis then slipped into a pair of sandals with leather straps that criss-crossed up her legs, like the gladiators of ancient Rome – or so many believed – and allowed Nomia to pull her hair up into a ponytail. If Thor was going to invite her to watch him spar in some arena, she was going to dress the part. 

“Very fetching, my lady,” Nomia said as she examined herself in the mirror. “I think your legs will be far too distracting.”

“Don’t lay it on too thick, Nomia,” Artemis chuckled, running her hands over the front of the fitted bodice before giving herself a nod of approval. “I do feel most like myself in this.”

“You’re starting to look like you again,” Callisto agreed from the door, causing them both to flinch. “I like this look… We should see to finding you more dresses like this. Thor ought to know the woman he’s marrying.”

“Hera would have a fit,” Artemis muttered, and then smirked a little. “Maybe you could alter a few hemlines?”

“I’d love to,” the blonde nymph grinned as Nomia giggled. “Come along. The arena is through the back gardens… The men and Aora are already there, and I’m sure she’s already asked Fandral to show her how to shoot.”

Artemis lost her playfulness at the thought, and then frowned. She had noticed some sort of flirtatious energy between Aora and the dashing rogue Fandral, and she wouldn’t stand for it for much longer. In order to serve her, nymphs and humans alike had to become chaste and abstinent so that their priorities did not wander elsewhere. It was a carryover from an older generation, and one that Artemis preferred. If she, an immortal goddess, could have only taken one lover in her very long life, surely her handmaidens would survive to be chaste while they served her. If they could not, then they could no longer serve her; there were no areas of grey for Artemis regarding the sexual exploits of her handmaidens. 

Callisto had also been acutely aware of Aora’s flirting and had promised Artemis that she would keep an eye on the situation; that way, Artemis would not need to make any unnecessary steps in the near future. They exchanged slightly more serious looks as they exited her room, though Nomia remained seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension. 

Taking a deep breath, Artemis threw her shoulders back in an attempt to brush off any lingering feelings of annoyance over Aora’s sometimes blatant flirtation with Fandral. Thus far, Thor hadn’t seen her when she was irritated, and she was sure her father would prefer if her intended continue to see her as someone who was all smiles. After all, at any moment she or Thor could turn to their parents and insist that this marriage was a bad idea based on a personality conflict; naturally, no one wanted to do that lest they wound the parents who had worked so hard on this arrangement, but it was always a possibility. 

“So what do you think they do for training?” Nomia inquired excitedly as they strolled through the back gardens of the palace, her eyes alight, hands clasped behind her back.

“I wouldn’t think it’s much different than what my brothers do when they train,” Artemis mused, thinking back to the competitions Apollo and Ares had back when they may have cared who the strongest of the two was. “I predict a lot of weights, throwing things, perhaps some weapons to duel with…”

“Boo,” Callisto laughed, linking her arm with Artemis’. She rolled her eyes a little, “I bet the four of us could beat the four of them any day without any sort of fancy training.”

“We should bring them to our arena,” Nomia chimed in as she skipped a little ahead of the two. “I bet they’d be lost by the end of the first hour.”

“Well, we should give them some credit,” Artemis said gently. “They are still warriors, after all. I suspect they could measure up in our arena, but I severely doubt they could catch anything.”

“Every creature in the wood could hear Volstagg breathing a mile away,” Nomia giggled softly, which made Callisto snort. 

“I do think they lack some tact, yes,” Artemis agreed as she spied a domed building at the bottom of a slightly steep hill. 

Nomia pointed out a set of stairs for them to take, and the trio traveled down the spiraling stairwell embedded in the rock of the hill. At the bottom, there was yet another marble walkway that led to the arena, and she wondered if the opulence of Asgard knew no end. The arena was coated in the same gold exterior as the rest of the palace, and thus far there were no windows as far as the eye could see: just a giant gold dome planted in this little valley around the far side of the palace. She was sure this was a place only for the Asgardian princes to train, as it was large, but certainly not large enough for the army to make use of. 

“What a curious building,” Callisto commented as they approached the main entrance, which was simply an arch in the wall with no door to speak of. 

“I think there are more eccentricities to Asgardians than we’re aware of,” Artemis said softly. 

The trio entered and Artemis immediately felt a temperature change between the indoor and outdoor air. Her skin prickled at the chill, but she could understand the purpose behind it; it was better to train in a place that was cool so that one doesn’t succumb to sweat before a session is finished. They did not have to travel far into the dome to reach the actual training area; the sounds of grunting, groaning, laughing, and other manly vocalizations were more than enough to indicate they had found it. 

“Ah, Lady Artemis,” Thor greeted as he released Fandral from a headlock. “I’m pleased you found your way.”

“Yes,” Artemis managed as she strolled into the circular arena, taking quick stock of the gear scattered around it. “It does blend well with the rest of the palace… You should invest in some signs.”

Thor grinned a little, which she returned with a smile to indicate she was only making a light jest. 

There were bars for pull-ups, a track encompassing the outer rim for jogging, and a vast array of weaponry and targets lined up directly across from her. Volstagg and Loki were currently engaged in some sort of duel with a pair of very large spears, but they paused when Thor announced her arrival. The Lady Sif was nowhere to be found, and Artemis wondered if she trained much with the boys. Hogun was on his own doing crunches to the side, and he was the only one who did not pause when she was greeted. 

“I thought you might be interested in seeing what else we do besides feasting and drinking,” Thor explained as she approached him. She watched him take her hand and kiss it, a gesture she had come to expect whenever they saw one another. He seemed a little winded, but was in a far better condition than Fandral, “I did not want you thinking we were merely born such skilled warriors.”

“Oh, believe me,” Artemis chuckled, giving each of them a quick once over with an eyebrow raised, a faint smile still lingering on her lips, “I never assumed that much. I’ve also yet to see proof of these skilled warriors you always speak about…”

“I believe that Lady has just issued a challenge,” Fandral laughed as he eased himself to his feet. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Artemis insisted playfully as she held her hands up, “but I’m interested in seeing these skilled warriors show themselves someday soon.”

She then turned away, pleased with her performance, and then followed her handmaidens toward a small stairwell that led up to a low viewing balcony. Artemis was also pleased that Aora was already up there waiting for them, rather than down in the arena near Fandral. 

“They’re actually very good,” Aora told her as she offered the only seat up for Artemis to sit in. “You should see Thor throw a spear… I bet if he was really trying, it would clear the palace.”

“Strength alone does not make a good warrior,” Artemis countered, folding her hands neatly in her lap, eyes trained on the men beneath her as they resumed combat. Loki and Volstagg’s spears clanged together noisily, and she turned her attention to Thor and Fandral as they locked arms, heads together as they began to wrestle once more. 

Did he really think she would enjoy this? A quick glance over her shoulder told her that, despite their aloof tone from before, both Callisto and Nomia were quickly enthralled with watching the men train, and soon shared Aora’s look of awe. 

Oh, honestly. 

Artemis rolled her eyes and felt herself slouch into the chair. It was all just a display of bravado that she had seen hundreds of times before in mortal men, and it was almost as unattractive. She appreciated strength and skill, but it wasn’t something to be paraded around and put on display for women to fawn over. 

Although, it was just a little bit satisfying to watch Fandral flip Thor onto his back, and she tried to suppress a grin when he bowed up to the balcony. However, it certainly wasn’t directed at Artemis, and she noticed Fandral’s eye line traveled right over her shoulder to Aora. She pursed her lips, glaring down at him as Thor swiftly kicked his legs out from under him and started the fight anew. 

“Aora,” Artemis said sharply enough to make the nymph flinch when she turned back around. “Do you wish to continue to serve me?”

The raven-haired beauty blinked a few times, her jaw slack, and then she quickly cleared her throat, “My lady, I live… I live to serve you!” 

“Then you will stop, right now, whatever you have started with him,” Artemis warned her with a low voice. “This is the only time I will tell you.”

Aora nodded quickly, eyes cast down to the floor, “Yes, my lady.”

“Good girl,” Artemis said, her gaze softening. She reached out to squeeze her arm, which forced the nymph to look up again, “I only say it because I care.”

She nodded again, forcing a weak smile in return. 

Artemis cared for the lives of her girls because she knew a man would ruin them. He would ruin their purity, ruin their spirit, and keep them caged. Artemis had no choice in the matter, not after Zeus had spoken, but if she could spare her girls the trouble that some men could bring – and Fandral with his charming smile and winks here and there was certainly included there – then she felt like she was doing her job. 

Pleased that Aora knew that she was on to her stolen glances with Fandral, Artemis turned back to the arena, only to make eye contact with Loki as he returned a spear to its holder nearby. He smiled a little, a smile that Artemis hastily returned before turning her gaze back to his brother. Luckily her three girls were standing behind her, or they would have seen the hypocritical blush form on her cheeks from that fleeting moment. 

It certainly didn’t happen often, but roughly once a week thus far, Loki had found a way to make her blush. It usually seemed unintentional on his part, and Artemis cursed herself out quite violently whenever he did manage to produce colour on her cheeks. She had a sinking suspicion that it was because she had no idea how to take the man, and that threw her. In all her years, she had lived with men full of pride and men that were too sensitive for their own good. Apollo had always been some sort of strange mix, but he was also her brother, and therefore incapable of making her stomach squirm the way other men might. Loki was just so different: different enough to throw her off whatever sort of game she had in their brief seconds of private time. 

In the moments that followed each of her blushes, she wished that it was Thor who could bring that out of her. She wished deeply that her intended could look at her and make her feel something in the pit of her stomach in the way that Loki could occasionally do. She knew it was just a brief phase, a time where she found the exotically different more attractive than the safe and secure, but she wished that it would pass. After all, she was there to make a connection with Thor, not Loki, despite the fact the latter seemed to be much keener on putting in the effort. 

A loud groan brought her out of her head, and she heard Nomia give a little cheer as Thor pinned Fandral to the ground, a grin on his face as he sought out her gaze. 

“What do you think, Lady Artemis?” Thor inquired. “Have I shown that I’m a skilled warrior yet?”

Despite her best intentions, Artemis felt her eyes drift back to Loki. The lean man had found a spot to sit nearby, a bottle of water in his hands. His eyebrows shot up when he spotted her looking, and she quickly turned her attention back to Thor, squaring her shoulders. “I think you’ve shown you’re a skilled wrestler. I don’t know if that constitutes a warrior…”

“Well, why don’t you come take a closer look?” Thor suggested as he rose to his feet, beckoning for her to join him with a wave of his hand. Meanwhile, Fandral rose unsteadily to his feet and slunk over to sit next to Loki, who handed him his drink. 

“Are you going to fight me?” Artemis asked as she rose, smoothing out her shorter skirt, eyebrow quirked.

“Of course not,” Thor laughed, his facial expression hinting that her query was the most absurd thing he had ever heard, “but I can show you some more technique.”

“Oh, thrilling,” Artemis muttered under her breath as she descended the small staircase. She was pleased she had picked a pair of comfortable shoes for today; she hadn’t necessarily expected Thor to invite her into the arena, but perhaps somewhere at the back of her mind Artemis really just wanted to not act like a proper lady for an hour or so. 

Once she was down in the arena, Artemis found she gravitated toward the bronze spear that Loki had set back into place among the others. She trailed her fingers along its shaft, and then wrapped a hand around it as she removed it from its holster. 

“A spear is always a little difficult to fight properly with,” Thor explained as he strolled over; as if she had never used a spear before. “You see, it isn’t quite that effective in close combat-"

Artemis hurled the weapon across the arena, her form precise and streamline, her follow-through exact as the spear dug itself snugly into the target. She smirked a little, and then looked back at Thor. 

“Spears are wonderful for hunting boar,” she admitted with a shrug, “or anything else with thick skin.”

“Impressive,” he said with a grin. “Perhaps I should have had you down here with us from the start?”

“I’m not a wrestler,” Artemis told him, forcing herself to keep her gaze on him despite the fact she could tell Loki was approaching from behind. 

“Your father speaks very highly of your archery skills,” Loki insisted as he came to a stop at his brother’s side. 

“He does?” Artemis asked, genuinely surprised that Zeus would bring up any sort of male activity to her suitor. She assumed any sort of ability that was not feminine would be cast to the wayside until it was one hundred percent certain that she was to marry Thor. 

“Of course,” Loki chuckled, exchanging a quick look with his brother, “I think we would benefit from a demonstration…”

“Or,” Thor interjected, a finger raised, “a competition?”

“You really want to compete against me?” Artemis laughed, arms folded across her chest. “I’m worried I might embarrass you.”

“Oh, don’t taunt him,” Loki chuckled as he clapped Thor on the shoulder, “because there’s no turning back now.”

“Weapons!” Thor called, directing the pair over to a line of bows strung up along the wall of the arena. Artemis glanced back at her girls, and Nomia snorted loudly; all of them looked as amused as she felt at the whole situation. However, she wasn’t going to walk away from a challenge, particularly in a field where she excelled, so she followed the brothers over to the bows. 

“Lady’s choice,” Loki insisted. Thor quickly retracted his hand from one of the larger bows and then nodded, quick to agree.

Artemis sauntered along the line of bows, her hands clasped behind her back. Six bows stood before her, all varying in height and thickness. In a perfect world, she would have picked them all up and tested their strings to find her favourite. However, she could tell Thor was itching to pick his own, so she settled on one that looked most similar to her own bow: a slim, perfectly curved arc and a string that seemed thin and pliable. It felt good in her hand, and she took a few steps back to test it, pleased with its draw and release. 

Predictably so, Thor chose the largest bow of the collection, and Loki ended up with one similar to hers in size, but with a much thicker arc. Artemis spotted Fandral dragging three targets out into the arena, and Volstagg soon appeared with a quiver of arrows. The sight of it all and the bow in her hand made her stomach flutter in a way that neither brother could induce, no matter what they did. Now all she needed was a steed and a wide ravine to canter through. 

However, all things considered, this would do. Artemis strolled toward the target, not engaging in the trash-talk that the brothers started as they followed. She chose the middle target, and the boys soon filed out on either side of her. 

“Lady and gentlemen,” Volstagg said gruffly, chest inflated as he looked down his nose at the group, which made her grin a little at his theatrics. “Please load your bow.”

They followed his instruction, and Artemis’ skin prickled at the feel of a feathered arrow between her fingers once again. 

“Take your aim.”

She aimed just off to the right of the centre of her target, knowing from experience that she always shot a little to the left; no matter how much practice she had, nothing could change her aim. It wasn’t really a problem, because all she needed to do was compensate for the slightly less than stellar aim. 

“And…”

Volstagg took quick the dramatic pause, forcing all three contenders to shoot him a bit of a pointed look. He smirked, and then nodded, “Well, shoot already!”

Artemis rolled her eyes a little, and then released her string as she exhaled slowly. She followed the trajectory keenly, and smirked when the arrow landed exactly on point in the centre of the target. It was only after she had made sure it was in the centre that she looked to the targets on either side, and then smiled triumphantly when she saw she was the clear winner; Thor was a little off from the centre, but not by much, and Loki only just made it onto the target. 

“Lady Artemis is the winner!” Volstagg announced somewhat unnecessarily. Her handmaidens cheered noisily from the balcony, and Artemis grinned back at them. 

“Well, we couldn’t try our hardest, could we?” Loki managed, arms limp at his side as he glared at his target, “You are our guest, after all.”

“You must not have been trying at all, brother!” Thor snorted as he handed his bow to Volstagg, and then strolled toward the targets to no doubt collect the arrows.

“Let me see how you were standing,” Artemis insisted as she turned toward Loki. “Sometimes it’s merely a matter of stance that can throw your aim.” 

He seemed less than thrilled with the idea, but she arched an eyebrow and that seemed to be enough to get him into an archer’s stance. It was apparent almost immediately what was wrong with his positioning, and Artemis was quick to point the flaws out. 

“Your legs aren’t far enough apart,” she told him as she stood next to him, demonstrating the effective length and positioning. “You’re too straight.”

He adjusted himself a little, but she leaned down and pushed on his back leg to give him another inch or so. 

“Better,” she admitted. She then stepped around him and ran her arm along his, pushing his elbow down a little to give him a stronger pull. “Much better.”

“Are you enjoying this?” he asked softly. Artemis looked up and only then realized how close they were standing, bodies almost touching as she corrected him. 

“This?”

“Today’s trip to the arena,” he clarified, his eyes meeting hers. Her stomach squirmed again, and she looked away quickly before a devious blush showed itself. How did he do this to her?

“I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would,” Artemis admitted after a moment. She might as well be honest with him, “I prefer being involved to being a spectator.”

“I thought as much,” Loki chuckled. “When I suggested Thor invite you down this morning, I had hoped he would have brought you in right away.”

She blinked back her surprise, “You… You suggested I come down here?”

“Well, yes,” he replied with a shrug, finally lowering the bow. “I figured you could do for a day that did not involve knitting or sitting with my mother.”

“Oh, well,” she muttered quickly, “I do enjoy my time with your mother-“

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. “She knows you do… We know you do, but I thought this might be a nice change of pace… Unless you would have rather learned more about mending armor?”

“No, no, this was very thoughtful,” she laughed, pleased that she had someone in her corner who could actually get things done for her. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her, and then scratched at the back of his head, “Not a problem, I thought that maybe-“

“Well,” Thor interrupted as he strolled back toward them, “I don’t think we’ll ever have to wonder who is the better archer of the group. You seem to have a number of hidden talents, my lady.”

“The more time you spend with me, the more you’ll see I only have a few,” Artemis insisted, taking a few steps away from Loki and toward Thor, “and they aren’t exactly a secret.”

Loki strolled back toward his spot against the wall as though he had been dismissed. He glanced over his shoulder once, and their eyes met again, but she turned away first, as usual, her attention returning to her intended. 

“I like this,” she told him, comfortable in his presence for the first time without someone else around to act as a buffer. “I’d like to do activities like this more often.”

“That pleases me,” he remarked, folding his thick arms across one another over his chest. “I… I was wondering if you were comfortable here in Asgard?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she was suddenly acutely aware that everyone in the arena was watching their conversation. She cleared her throat, careful not to fidget too much with her fingers under the pressure of an audience, and then nodded, “Yes, I think I’ve become more comfortable.”

“Good, good,” he said quickly, his eyes looking almost everywhere except at hers. “I heard from my father that your parents will be leaving… soon, and I-“

“How soon?” Artemis interjected, eyebrows furrowed. This was the first she had been hearing of this.

“Within the next few… days,” Thor told her carefully. “When they leave, and you stay, it means… that… our wedding is a… reality.”

“Yes, I am aware of what it means,” she said, but quickly forced a smile to downplay the irritation. 

Once Zeus and Hera left her here, it was as though she would be practically married to Thor that very night. If it all went according to their plans, the actual ceremony would be the day of Thor’s ascent to the throne. However, if Zeus left her now, there was no chance to call anything it off; it would practically be set in stone, and for the next year she would live here as his fiancée.

“Are you…” he trailed off, and then cleared his throat, “agreeable to your parents leaving?”

She really wished he would stop including Hera as her parent, but that was beside the point. If she agreed now, it as though she was agreeing to his proposal for marriage, albeit somewhat indirectly. It hadn’t really occurred to her as much, but up until this point, she could have gone to her father and insisted that Thor was a brute who she had no intention of marrying. However, she knew that would break her father’s heart, so she had kept quiet, but saying that she agreed to it out loud seemed a daunting feat in itself. 

So, she nodded instead, unable to fully voice it at this time. He seemed pleased from what she could gather, and she let out a sigh of relief when he changed the subject of discussion back to the arena, clearly preferring to focus on weaponry than an impending marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left a bit of feedback or a kudos! I'll try to be better on getting the chapters up for you!


	7. Unbecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies! It's been a while since I've updated, but mostly because I'm swamped with work. This story is actually completed on ff.net, and you're welcome to skip ahead to read there! Otherwise, I'm going to make it my mission to update once a week. Thanks to everyone who has made comments or left a kudos. It really means a lot to me!

One month into his game, and Loki decided it was time to give it up. He ought to find a new pastime, because when Artemis stayed behind after Zeus and Hera departed, it meant that she was bound to marry his brother. There were no more uncertainties, no more questions; a marriage would take place the day Thor ascended to the throne in just under a year’s time, and Artemis would become the new queen of Asgard. 

There had been a large farewell ceremony to the ruler of Olympus several days prior, and Loki noticed his father was quite displeased that they were leaving so soon after arriving; apparently, a month was not a suitable duration for these sorts of visits. Artemis had been emotional to see her father leave, as was expected, and Loki watched the frosty farewell exchanged between Hera and Artemis with some interest. Once the Olympian party dispersed across the Bifrost and down the Earth, he noticed a sense of normality return to his home. 

There had been fewer feasts, less elaborate displays, fewer exquisite fashions amongst the nobles, and the servants seemed to breathe a sigh of relief now that their duties had lessened. The Warriors Three dispersed back to their actual homes in the city, as they had only been in the palace for the visit to keep Thor company while he tried to get to know his future bride. It all seemed a little petty, hiding behind one’s friends because one was sour about an arranged marriage, but he learned long ago that there was very little he could do to persuade Thor in certain matters. Sometimes, his brother was putty in the palm of his hand, so easy to mold and bend, but other times he was a rock, weighing him down and terribly unyielding. 

When it came to his opinion of Artemis and the marriage, it seemed to be the latter. No matter how often Loki expressed a positive view for the future in an attempt to cheer him up, Thor seemed so focused on the fact that an arranged marriage was a negative thing. He believed it made him look weak to have his parents dig up a woman for him from another realm, and although he seemed to genuinely enjoy Artemis’ company, he stubbornly refused to see the bright side of their union. At this point, Loki had done all he could for him, and it seemed that Thor and Artemis would simply have to come together and find a way for this marriage to be a happy one. 

It really shouldn’t be his concern. There were so many other issues in his own life that he could work on other than his brother’s arranged nuptial. His magic grew stronger each time he practiced, usually alone or occasionally on a servant or peasant in the market. He had recently progressed from changing the form of inanimate objects to changing the actual physiology of real beings; it was only yesterday he changed a rat into a cat with a great deal of concentration, and even though no one had been around to see it, his chest swelled with pride for the rest of the night. Naturally, that rat made for a terrible cat, trying to stuff itself back into holes that it was too big for, and Loki was forced to change it back. Besides, he had noticed the cat’s tail slowly morphing back into that of a rat on its own, which meant his magic weakened over long durations: more practice was necessary before he could show his father his talents. 

He glanced down the long dinner table toward his father at the thought, but noticed he was far too engrossed in a conversation with his mother to give his attention elsewhere. Tonight was the birthday of one of his younger cousins on his mother’s side who lived at the northern end of the realm. Naturally, his mother had invited the family down for a celebratory dinner, along with most the tip-top of the noble class. Tables were full, the wine flowed, and the energy was ever-present. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif had joined him and his brother, along with Artemis and her handmaidens, at the end of the main table for the duration of the meal. 

Loki had many relatives across the realm, and this was a cousin he did not know especially well. Even Thor was only pleasantly polite for a short period after their arrival, and they all retreated to the far end of the table, surrounded by some of Thor’s admirers, in order to avoid any awkward, unnecessary conversation. Their cousin, meanwhile, sat between Loki’s aunt and uncle near the head of the table, elbows on the table, staring glumly at his still full glass of red wine. It appeared that the boy was not enjoying the feast that his mother prepared in his honour; both Loki and Thor exchanged several unimpressed looks during the meal regarding their cousin’s ungrateful demeanor. 

However, his teen cousin wasn’t the only one who seemed to be in a bit of a funk. Although her handmaidens were as lively as ever, spoiling Volstagg and Fandral far too much with their adamant attention, Artemis seemed incredibly quiet tonight. He had only seen her a handful of times since her father left with Hera, but he had noticed she was far less peppy with the attention off her. In fact, tonight she looked the worst he had seen her. Oh, of course she still appeared lovely on the outside, her hair perfectly styled and her dress quite elegant, but he noticed that every smile she gave barely reached her eyes: all fake. He couldn’t have been the only one to notice it; Loki considered himself slightly more perceptive of the feelings of others than the brutes he associated with, Fandral included, but he wasn’t especially talented with deciphering females. However, it was fairly plain that something seemed to bother the Olympian goddess. 

He wasn’t about to embarrass her in front of their side of the table by telling Thor that his fiancé was upset, but he was too far away to actually address her himself. She was seated between the two handmaidens who weren’t always making eyes for Fandral, and even still she seemed deflated. 

Loki tried not to focus on her too much. After all, his game was finished, which meant he needn’t go out of his way to make her feel comfortable anymore. As far as he was concerned, he was leaps and bounds ahead of his brother when it came to Artemis, and that was all that mattered; in his eyes, he had won. Mind you, he had cultivated some sort of a friendship over the month, and unlike the Warriors Three, Artemis was pleased to see him with or without Thor present. It certainly never hurt to have a friendly face on his side, especially one that was going to be the queen of Asgard. 

Dinner wore on, and nothing that anyone did seemed to improve Artemis’ mood. Instead, Loki merely noticed that her wine glass was in constant need of refilling by one of her servants, which had him slightly worried. It was always fun to see Thor or Volstagg stumble around drunk at these sorts of things, but Artemis hadn’t necessarily earned the reputation yet that would excuse public drunkenness. His mother hadn’t been anything more than tipsy in the public eye during her entire reign, and it certainly would not look good for his brother or his future bride should she make a scene. To make matters worse, Thor and Sif sat directly across from him, engaged in some sort of conversation that he was sure dripped with flirtation, and hadn’t cast an eye down to Artemis for quite some time. 

The music commenced as the night wore on, and as Loki neatly sliced up his slightly too tart dessert, the people around him drifted up to partake in a little dancing. Naturally, that dark-haired nymph accepted Fandral’s proposal to dance shyly, and the taller blonde one was after them like a shot with Hogun in tow. The only human among them seemed entranced with a story Volstagg had to tell her, and Thor and Lady Sif joined a card game that had broken out in the middle of the table, each throwing in several coins to participate. With everyone else otherwise occupied, it seemed that Loki really ought to find a way to put a smile on Artemis’ face. There were other people in the hall he could talk to, but he thought it was his duty to fix Thor’s mess before it became a problem; Artemis’ unhappiness was Thor’s mess, and there was no getting around it. 

So, he quickly finished his dessert and then pushed the bronze plate away. Pleased with the overall feel of his meal, he wiped his hands on his napkin and pointedly ignored the servant who came to collect it. However, when he turned down the table with the intention of trying to bring Artemis out of her funk, Loki frowned at her empty place. The human handmaiden seemed oblivious to her absence as she shoved a forkful of the tart dessert into her mouth, and Loki rolled his eyes a little. He then scanned the surrounding area, but there were far too many people scattered around to see the entire hall. 

“Where is your mistress?” Loki demanded, interrupting the handmaiden and Volstagg from their discussion about the qualities of their cake. The girl looked to her left, and then quickly stood up, head snapping about as she tried to locate Artemis in the room. 

“I… I didn’t notice her leaving,” the girl squeaked, her cheeks a hint redder than usual. “Oh, I was supposed to watch her…”

“Nonsense,” Volstagg mused, waving at her to sit back down. “She isn’t a child who needs someone to mind her. Now, tell me, Fair One, what do you think of the berries in the crust?”

Loki scoffed noisily and then slid his legs over the bench, his eyes wandering the hall as he rose. Volstagg seemed to calm the handmaidens concerns, but his words weren’t enough for Loki to ignore Artemis’ sudden absence. He moved through the hall smoothly, careful to avoid twirling couples and drunken shenanigans of relatives. After one sweep, he had yet to find her, and only on his way back to the table did he spot her retreating figure stumbling down the stairs at the exit. 

He shook his head, and then moved through the crowd of dancers, glaring when one knocked into him a little too roughly. Once through that ridiculousness, Loki darted down the large, wide steps, calling for Artemis softly enough to not arouse any unnecessary attention. Unfortunately, she seemed to have evaded him once more, and the dark hall before him was completely empty. He sighed, keeping his pace at a brisk walk, and began to search for her throughout that level of the palace. From her less than elegant stumble, he assumed all the wine had started to have some sort of effect on her, and he couldn’t have her falling drunkenly into a pool somewhere and drowning. 

That might lead to a declaration of war by Zeus should his daughter turn up floating in a pool while intoxicated. So, in all actuality, it was for the good of the realm that he found where Artemis had wandered off to. Save them all some trouble in the future. Yes. 

He paused at one of the large windows when he spotted a small figure stumbling across the courtyard several stories below. Squinting a little, he recognized the sway of straight blonde hair, and then groaned under his breath. How had she moved so quickly? 

He knew there would be guards patrolling the exits, but they had little real power when it came to the nobility in the house. Loki found they worked best for keeping the poor out, but the rich could come and go as they pleased. If Artemis was convincing enough, or if she bothered to stop for them at all, he knew they would simply let her wander out on her own. 

Slightly irritated that Thor wasn’t doing this himself, Loki dashed down through the palace by the quickest route possible, only coming to a halt when he entered the courtyard. Met with the cool night air, Loki took a moment to catch his breath, and then beckoned one of the roving guards to his side. 

“My lord?”

“My brother’s…” he trailed off, slightly unsure of what label he ought to give her, “intended… Did she pass this way?”

The guard cleared his throat, a clear indication that she had, and he nodded toward the side exit. “She wanted to see the bridge.” 

“Was she… clearheaded?” Loki inquired carefully, and then glared when the guard shook his head. “And you simply let her wander out to a bridge from which she might fall? Do you have any idea what would happen to Asgard should she injure herself?”

Or plummet off the side…

“I assumed Heimdall would find her if she faced any troubles,” the guard muttered quietly, eyes cast down to the ground. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“Simpleton,” Loki sneered. “Heimdall has other things to worry about.”

Heimdall would also know if Loki simply turned back and left Artemis to her own devices outside the palace walls. He would have preferred to berate the guard a little further, as he was merely a lowly foot patrol officer, but he couldn’t let Artemis stumble into the abyss should she misstep. So, he sprinted to the last exit the guard said Artemis had taken, ordering the men that followed to remain behind. While he was enraged that they had simply let her walk out (as expected, mind you), Loki would rather he keep her drunkenness between themselves. 

There was no need for the gossips to discuss the Goddess of the Hunt any more than they already did.

The palace had a direct line to the Bifrost Bridge, its soft rainbow connected almost directly behind it. After all, it was Odin and his family that made the most use of its power; it only made sense that it should be attached to their ancestral home. He traveled swiftly through a series of winding pathways, only to come to an abrupt halt when he emerged into the vast openness at the edge of Asgard. It was sprawling nothingness as far as the eye could see, only the rainbow bridge illuminating the night’s sky and the vastness of space beneath.

His eyes widened when he spotted her standing precariously along the edge of the bridge about a quarter of the way across, her arms up, feet sticking out over the edge just enough. If there was a gust of wind, he feared she would tumble right over. 

“Artemis!” 

His voice cut through the otherwise peaceful night sharply, and the goddess flinched back when it reached her. He held a breath when she swayed a little, but then released it when she stepped away from the edge. Shaking his head, he hurried toward her, his body still tense with her closeness to the edge. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded when he was finally close enough. 

She smiled at him, a smile he had yet to see, and it was fairly apparent from the smell alone that she was intoxicated. He quickly looked down to the edge of the bridge, eyeing the exit portal. There was no guard of the realm in sight, and he assumed Heimdall knew that Loki would have arrived before something horrible happened to Thor’s intended. 

“I came out to look at the moon,” she told him when he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her back to the center of the bridge. “I’m also the goddess of that… Did you know?”

“I was aware, yes,” he chuckled, giving her a once over to make sure she hadn’t knocked into anything on the way here. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” she repeated, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She then proceeded to throw her head back and laugh, her blonde hair swaying about, eyes a little unfocused when they met his once more. “Do you think I’m all right?”

“I think you have excellent vocabulary for someone who has had a little too much wine,” Loki told her honestly.

Thank goodness she wasn’t slurring her words and stumbling about; he was quite pleased she wasn’t that drunk, but perhaps she was just better at holding her alcohol than some of the men he knew.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks a little rosy, the scent of red wine emanating from almost every pore, and then shrugged off his hands. “Do you really think I’m all right?”

He stared at her hard for a moment, and then scratched the back of his neck. “I think you’re coping-“

“My father left me here,” she cried, throwing her arms up in the air and turning away from him. Her motor coordination was a little more affected than her speech, and Loki quickly followed her along the bridge to ensure she wouldn’t fall. “He left me after knowing him for one month. I am as disposable as I thought.”

Artemis turned sharply, and he had to stop himself from crashing into her. Her hands shot up and pressed against his chest, holding him at an arm’s length. Golden bracelets jingled about on her wrists, and Loki only then noticed all the finery she had adorned herself with that evening. 

“But I suppose I should be grateful,” she spat, her lip quivering a little, hands still pressed to his chest. “My sister Aphrodite was given to a man twice her width and possesses almost three times her curves. My cousin, Persephone, is married to our uncle because he decided one day he was going to kidnap her and then fuck her, but later married her to please my father and his sister, Persephone’s mother.”

He wrapped his long fingers around her slim wrists. “Let me take you back inside-“

“It’s all in the family on Olympus,” she sneered, tugging her hands away. He made a note to take hold of her a little more firmly next time. “So I should be grateful I won’t be in the bed of a relative, shouldn’t I?”

His eyes widened a little; he had yet to hear her speak with such passion, or so explosively. 

“Athena will never have this problem!” she ranted, throwing her hands up in the air and stalking away from him. Once again, Loki trailed after her, flinching a little when she stumbled a little too far to the left. “The favourite will be free to do whatever she wishes until she dies… and that’s never!”

A thought occurred to him, and he realized that he and Artemis may have more in common than he had previously anticipated. Apparently, there was a favourite in every family, and the ones that were not shown this small token of affection by their parents harboured the same sort of resentment. 

She released a frustrated growl, and then much to Loki’s shock, she commenced in pulling off her shoes and hurling them over the side of the bridge. They quickly vanished into the abyss. 

“I don’t wear shoes… ever, really,” she told him, the frustration quite plain on her face. She seemed bent on marching away from him, but only managed to trip over the hem of her skirt now that she had discarded her heeled shoes. The goddess released another strangled growl, and then simply let herself collapse to the ground in a heap of soft yellow fabric. 

He snorted. He hadn’t meant to, but the fall had been at least a little comical. When she looked up at him, she too had a grin on her lips, and he was pleased that she hadn’t taken offense. 

“Come along,” he chided gently, reaching out to take her hands and hoist her up. However, she avoided him once more when her knees fell flat to the ground and she threw herself down completely, arms thrown over her head.

In that moment as she drunkenly sprawled out before him, he realized just how beautiful she truly was, despite the smell. The soft glow of the starlight combined with that of the bridge highlighted her features exquisitely, and it took everything in him to not stare at her with his mouth hanging open. Yes, she wasn’t the most stunning woman he had seen or heard of in all the realms, but she was still beautiful. 

How unfortunate that Thor should miss this. 

“Do you come out here often?” she asked, arching her back as she rolled her head side to side, clearly enjoying the drunken sensation of being on the ground. “To look at the stars? How lovely the moon is from here…”

“No, I can’t say I ever have,” Loki admitted. 

A quick glance at Heimdall’s dominion once again proved that they were unwatched from his end – figuratively speaking, mind you – and another one back to the palace indicated no guards had followed; they were completely alone beneath the night sky. 

“I’d come here all the time,” Artemis told him, finally bringing her hands to rest on her stomach. Loki decided it would be best to sit with her rather than stand over her, and took a seat next to her; he kept his distance appropriate, but still close enough to grab her if she started to roll. She turned her head to the side, smiling at him. “I think I’ll come here every night. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” he mused, reaching out to push the stray hairs from her face as a gust of wind barreled through, “if you wish for my company with no alcohol in you.”

“I will,” she sighed, turning her head back up to face the stars. “I always do.”

His stomach knotted at the comment, and he swallowed down his desire to ask her to explain herself. She was intoxicated. Come morning, she probably wouldn’t even remember the majority of this conversation. 

“I knew you would find me if I left,” Artemis continued softly. She licked her lips. “You seem to be one of the few who cares what happens to me.”

“Thor cares,” Loki remarked stiffly. “He’s just terrible at showing it.”

“Our children are going to be so very blond,” Artemis sighed, lifting her hands up and seeming to trace a constellation with her fingers. The numerous bracelets rattled noisily, and with a look of irritation, Artemis ripped them off and cast them aside, glaring as they fell thunderously on the rainbow bridge. 

Would her dress come next?

“They aren’t mine,” she explained. “Hera left them behind, and Callisto insisted I dress my best for your family tonight.”

“That seems like a subjective demand,” Loki murmured, preferring her the way she looked now without all the finery. 

He then leaned forward, willing his magic upon the confounding bits of jewelry. Artemis gasped a little when the first turned, and shortly after all of her discarded bracelets became small golden birds that chirped sweetly before taking off. 

“That was beautiful,” he heard her whisper. He felt the same swell of pride that he had had when he turned that rat into a cat, only now it amplified with an appreciative audience. “Can you make me fly?”

Her voice was near his ear, and he turned back only to find her sitting up a little, her face very near to his, eyes wide and imploring. Had she been anyone else, and not completely drowning in red wine, Loki would have taken that opportune moment to kiss her. They were in the perfect setting for it, the perfect moment. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“Perhaps I could fly you to your room?” he suggested, almost completely disbelieving what he was saying. No, he was in disbelief with the sudden wave of feelings, particularly when he had already given up this game. 

She nodded. “Yes, I think maybe I should try to sleep.”

He couldn’t agree more. So, he eased himself to his feet, and then took both of her hands in his as he helped her up. Loki then wrapped one of her arms around his waist, unable to resist just a little bit of inappropriateness, and then placed an arm on her shoulder under the guise of balance. 

“Hera killed my dog today,” she told him as they started walking, and Loki glanced down at her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s all right,” she managed, her eyes a little watery. “It certainly wasn’t your fault. She ought to apologize.”

He was about to explain that he hadn’t been apologizing, but rather asking her to clarify what she had said, but she continued regardless. “She gave the attendants minding him some treats, and they… they must have been poisoned.”

It almost seemed too much to believe, perhaps a little paranoid on Artemis’ behalf regarding her relationship with the wife of Zeus, but that did not change the fact that her hound had died. 

“Is that why you were so distressed today?” Loki inquired lightly. She nodded, hiccupping softly, and he gave her a little bit of a squeeze. “I was unaware… I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, leaning on him a little more now as she stumbled along beside him. They finally stepped off the rainbow bridge, and the tension in his shoulders eased out. At least there was no chance of her falling off anything now. 

He helped her along the pathway and through the courtyard, holding her up a little more so whenever there might be an audience watching them. Loki was careful to take the back entrances, and tunnels in which no one but the occasional servant might be found. This wasn’t the first time he had helped someone drunk discreetly find their way to their bed, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Loki,” she whispered as they approached the floor that housed her sleeping chambers. “You mustn’t tell anyone of this… I feel so-“

“I never had any intention to,” Loki informed her, smiling a little when she looked up. “This will be between you and I.”

“Our secret,” she said softly, mimicking another promise they had between one another regarding his first gift for her. 

“My lady!”

A female voice pierced their bubble so abruptly that Loki felt physically shaken by it. He felt Artemis’ hand withdraw from around his waist, and they both turned back to see the blonde nymph rushing toward them. 

“Hello, Callisto,” Artemis grinned, a little unstable now that Loki wasn’t propping her up. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”

“No,” the nymph snapped, tucking her loose hair behind her shoulders and shooting Loki a bit of an irritated look, “I was concerned. I thought we might have lost you to the city… You mustn’t wander off like that.”

“Don’t chide me as though you’re my mother,” Artemis snapped, a small hint of sobriety returning to her voice. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Sweet dreams,” Loki muttered, but the nymph was already ushering the goddess down toward her room, shooting him another look over her shoulder. 

He may have already decided this on the bridge, but Loki officially came to the conclusion that even if he could give up his game, it might be a little harder to give her up. 

Damn.


	8. The Perfect Servant

It had been a grand total of four days since Artemis sprawled out drunkenly on the Bifrost Bridge, and she had spent the majority of those days hiding in her room. She was incredibly embarrassed to have been publicly drunk so soon after she was left on her own, and it took her two days to actually show her face beyond the realm of her floor in the palace. 

She felt like the entire night had been filled with childish antics that she was entirely responsible for; after all, she wasn’t some feeble young mortal who had no idea what copious amounts of wine would do to her! No, she was an immortal who had gone through bouts of drunkenness and various other states of inebriation in her long life, and she was quite aware that she had started that meal with the intention to get quite drunk. Therefore, because she had the intention of making a fool out of herself, she had no one else to blame for her behaviour. Unlike many of her relatives, Artemis was set on not embarrassing the family name, and yet she had done exactly that as she whined to Loki about Hera killing her dog. 

Ugh, it was humiliating! She had behaved like a little girl – certainly not the way the future queen of Asgard ought to act. People were always so much more forgiving if men were drunk, but for women it was unbecoming and vulgar. Callisto assured her that no harm had become of it, and the nymph was certain no one had even noticed her acting any different than normal, aside from the fact that she might have been a little quiet. Regardless, Artemis was endlessly embarrassed, and found it difficult to look Frigga in the eye the one time they had met recently to work on her sewing skills. However, at the time she knew that she felt like she deserved to be downtrodden; her dog was dead. 

To many, it might have seemed trivial. Some of the gods she knew treated their animals in the same way they treated humans: like they were nothing. However, in all her years of breeding, training, grooming, raising, and living with her continuous pack of hunting dogs, she had never lost one in such a malicious way. They were a part of the family, a part of her own pack, and she treated them with the utmost respect. Naturally, they were all bound to die of old age, as none of them were immortal beasts. Occasionally one might die of sickness, but only after Artemis had gone to great lengths to heal it, and sometimes there were hunting accidents that were unavoidable. These deaths were never intentional, never malicious, and Artemis had never felt so distraught over them. 

Hera had always been quite discreet in the ways she hurt Zeus’ bastard children, and only the ones that had caused her the greatest offense were tackled directly. Artemis’ mother, Leto, had been punished an age ago, and since then her stepmother saw fit to get to Artemis and Apollo indirectly. There was no way she could ever prove that Hera had slipped poisoned biscuits to the animal keepers here in Asgard. Yes, one of the men might have told her the treats were delivered by Hera’s servant, but Hera would blame it on the servant before she even entertained the idea of defending herself. As of right now, Hera had won, and it had cost Artemis a small piece of her heart. 

Her girls understood her pain, particularly Nomia, but they were better at keeping their emotions masked when they were in public. They had been as bubbly and polite as ever, even after Artemis’ drunken adventure. She had yet to tell them that Loki found her on the bridge, nor did she express the brief moment they shared together. 

Artemis had come to the next morning with a perfect memory of everything that had happened, and she recalled a strong desire to be close to him. There hadn’t been any real sense of attraction up until that night, and she assumed it stemmed from a combination of her loneliness and his friendliness. He had been so kind to her thus far, unnecessarily so, and in her drunken state beneath the light of the stars, she wanted nothing more than to be held by him. It wasn’t a sexual desire, but rather a need to be close to someone who was not a servant. 

She needed a replacement for Apollo, for that person who was by her side when she needed them, and could to some degree be considered her equal. In a perfect world, Thor would have fallen into that role, and they would have spent this next year leaning on one another as they prepared for marriage. It was almost a tragedy that she had substituted her future husband for his brother, but at this point she wasn’t about to be picky. If she could find an ally, someone to help her navigate through this confusing Asgardian world, then she wasn’t going to turn her back on him. Loki was capable, gifted with magic, and certainly was never a bore to talk to. He could make her laugh if he tried hard enough, and he had clearly been as discreet about her intoxicated escapades as she was; that in itself was proof of either a worth ally, or an enemy who desired something. Nothing he had done thus far hinted that he might be an enemy, so Artemis decided he was a sure friend. 

She should have gone to thank him for his kindness, but her embarrassment kept her from seeing anyone aside from Frigga and her girls. Loki’s mother had yet to comment on her episode, which was quite nice; Hera would have jumped on that the second she saw Artemis slink out of her bedroom, but it seemed Frigga still had the class that her stepmother once had and lost over the years. Hopefully, the remainder of her company would be as forgiving when it came to public embarrassments. 

The dust had probably settled by now, and Artemis thought it might be good to get out of the palace for the day. It was glorious outside with the sun high in the sky, a warm breeze wafting through all of the open windows in order to keep the large building ventilated. Frigga told Artemis that there were private pools strictly for the royal family beneath the palace, and they were accessible through a small tunnel on the southeastern portion of the estate. Seeing as she was going to join the family, the queen insisted that she was more than welcome to make use of them anytime she wished. So, after she and her girls enjoyed a lovely lunch on one of the many secluded verandas, they slowly drifted back to her room in order to prepare themselves for a swim. 

She hadn’t seen Thor all morning, but that wasn’t exactly anything new. If he wasn’t mucking about with his brother somewhere within the castle, he was out training with his Warriors Three at the arena. Artemis assumed she was still invited to attend the building whenever, but she hadn’t gone back for fear that she might embarrass those sturdy male warriors a second time: also not queenly behaviour. No one was especially upset that the men weren’t around, because it meant they could swim naked as per usual. 

“Do you think we should bring spare clothes on the off-chance that someone else is in the pools?” Callisto asked as she stood in front of four separate bags lined up on Artemis’ bed. 

She had managed to produce towels and lotions that they could use if there was a bit of sun nearby, and had been packing for about ten minutes while the rest of them sprawled about her room. 

Although it should have been Artemis, she was pleased that someone else had taken on the mothering role within their group. To some extent, that blond nymph could get away with just about anything and Artemis would merely bat an eyelash in response. She was the oldest of her handmaidens and had been Artemis’ companion the longest – whatever she wanted to do was fine as long as it did not directly conflict with Artemis in one way or another. 

“Frigga seemed quite certain that they were only for the royal family,” Artemis commented absently. She was currently seated in the crux of her large window, one leg hanging precariously over the edge, the curtains billowing behind her. 

It looked quite dramatic, really; if only there was something else going on in her life that made a bigger impact on her day than what she ate for breakfast. Artemis sighed, and she had a sinking suspicion that visiting these pools with her handmaiden was going to be the most eventful thing she would do for quite some time. 

“Well, I’m going to pack something extra,” Callisto decided as she strolled back to Artemis’ vast closet, “just to be safe.”

“Yes, can’t have any more embarrassments on my behalf,” Artemis grumbled moodily, folding her arms across her chest as she surveyed the mountains in the distance. She would have given anything to be on a horse riding through them. 

“Oh, my lady,” Aora sighed from her place on the bed, “you mustn’t dwell on that. It could have been much worse. No one even knew you were drunk!”

“I hardly think anyone would say it to my face,” she informed her handmaiden as she pushed the sheer curtain out of the way, “but I’m sure the gossip mill churned on behind my back.”

“Well, I haven’t heard anything,” the dark nymph insisted with a nod. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for your name among the servants.”

“Would you tell me what they said?” Artemis asked, scoffing a little at the thought.

“Of course!”

She laughed this time, knowing that Aora meant well, but she wasn’t about to relay hurtful gossip back to her mistress. 

“I saw women who were far drunker than you,” Nomia piped up from across the room. “I think it’s different here.”

“Was Thor’s mother drunk?”

“Well, no-“

“Then it isn’t acceptable for me to behave like a fool in public,” Artemis said firmly. “I might not be queen yet, but I’m not blind as to what is expected of me.”

The trio remained silent. Perhaps it was because they knew she had given in to this ridiculous notion of being prim and proper simply because she was bound to be queen. Artemis wasn’t necessarily a flamboyant free spirit who would verbally assault anyone who tried to pin her down, but she had been known to have her own opinion and personality. However, if she was going to rule a nation properly and live up to the expectations provided by Frigga… Well, she was going to need to tame any sort of outlandish behaviour that might not have been a norm. In short, she was going to become Hestia – domesticated, subservient, boring. 

There was a knock at her bedroom door suddenly, and she leaned around the curtain with a frown on her face. Who would bother to come visit her when they weren’t required? She nodded to Nomia, and the human was soon on her feet, scuttling across the room to greet the sudden visitor. Meanwhile, Artemis returned her gaze to the mountains with the assumption that another servant had merely stopped by to drop off her fresh laundry. However, when she heard a squeal from Nomia, she realized this might not have been the typical delivery of laundered dresses. 

“Oh, my lady!” she heard Nomia cry. “Come look!”

Artemis slid off the window’s ledge, her bare feet moving silently across the marble floor, and she quickly adjusted her light blue dress as she went. She stepped around Nomia, wondering might have caused such a fuss, and found herself staring at a sight she would have never expected to see: Thor with a portly little pup in hand. 

“Oh…” she managed, her eyes widening as the small creature blinked at her nervously. 

“My brother told me you lost your hound recently,” the man informed her. He held out the small brown mass of fur for her to examine. “I thought you ought to have an Asgardian creature replace it.”

Artemis spotted Loki lurking over Thor’s shoulder, and she finally produced the smile that both men deserved. 

“That’s very thoughtful,” she told him happily, her arms extended to take the small animal from his hands. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Perhaps you could train him to hunt,” Nomia suggested brightly. 

The woman was already glued to her side, no doubt thrilled at the thought of having a new dog to raise. Artemis grinned, all notions of behaving like a proper queen fading to the back of her mind. The gesture was incredibly kind of him, but she wondered just how involved Loki had been in making this gift a reality. Her eyes sought out his over his brother’s shoulder, but he seemed too focused on the pup to even notice her. He was smiling though, and she realized that today might be a happier, more exciting day than she could have ever anticipated. 

The baby hound was quite different from the ones she had become accustomed to over the years. Her usual hounds were slim, sleek, and had fur no longer than the length of a knuckle. Meanwhile, this little thing had thick fur, was a little round in the middle, and possessed some of the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen on a creature of this kind. 

“She’ll grow quickly,” Thor explained, “and she’ll be quite large. You… You can have more, if you’d like.”

“We’ll see how we handle one Asgardian beast for now,” Artemis chuckled, a little daunted at the thought of caring for a quick-growing beast that was so much larger than any hound she had had before. Nomia was almost bouncing in place beside her, no doubt itching to accept Thor’s offer of more dogs; Artemis shot her a look to rein in her enthusiasm. 

“Oh, she’s lovely,” Callisto cooed, and Artemis turned back to show the pup off to her other two handmaidens. Aora ran her hands over the creature’s ears, commenting on how soft the fur was considering its thickness. 

Overall, everyone seemed pleased with Thor’s first public gift to her, and Artemis realized that it was exactly what she wanted. She had no desires for ornate jewels, though she would have been even happier if he purchased a bow for her to add to her secret collection of hunting supplies. However, a new dog that she could mold into the perfect servant was more than she could have hoped for at this point. 

So, she deposited the creature in Nomia’s eager hands, and then stepped forward to plant a kiss on the man’s cheek. He grinned immediately, and she gave him a small smile in return. 

“Can we take her outside?” Nomia asked excitedly, her eyes wide and hopeful as she looked up to Artemis. 

“Yes,” Artemis chuckled. “There will be no getting you to the pools now anyway.”

Her handmaiden nearly barreled Thor and Loki over as she raced out the door, Aora in tow. Honestly, the excitement her human servant had over hounds could almost be labeled as obsessive. She rolled her eyes a little, and Callisto huffed softly about wasted bags and such. 

“We’ll go later,” she insisted quietly, giving the nymph’s arm a squeeze. “Let’s humor Nomia for now.”

“As we always do,” Callisto remarked, coyly shooting a look between Artemis and Thor. She arched an eyebrow, unsure of what the blonde was hinting at, and then came to the conclusion on her own shortly after. 

Ah. Right. 

“Would you… like to keep us company?” Artemis asked awkwardly, unsure of what Thor would actually do while they were out watching some pup run in circles in the courtyard. It did seem like the proper thing to ask, however, seeing as he had made another step in their relationship; she ought to reciprocate. 

“I… Yes,” Thor replied quickly, smiling down at her as she ran a hand through her hair. “Yes, I would like that.”

“Good.”

They stared at one another for a moment, clearly waiting for the other person to say something more, and she finally turned back to Callisto and silently begged for her to take over. So, as natural as anything, Callisto floated around and took Thor by the arm. 

“Now, before we go much further, you must tell me what I can anticipate with this dog you’ve found for us,” she insisted as she started to lead him out of the room. “Artemis may train them, and Nomia may spoil them, but I’m the one that always does the dirty work.”

Artemis heard Thor chuckle in the hallway, and she turned back quickly to see Loki moving in the opposite direction from the small crowd. She darted out after him, and brought him to a halt when she tugged at his sleeve. To ensure they were alone, she glanced over her shoulder, and then before he could say anything, she threw her arms around his neck and held on snugly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, pleased to feel the light touch of his hands on her back in return. 

“You’re welcome,” he murmured softly. Artemis finally pulled away when she felt like he might have become uncomfortable, and then cleared her throat. 

“Really,” she told him. “Thank you for everything.”

“Well, the dog was completely Thor’s idea,” Loki insisted pleasantly. “He’s been searching around with breeders for days now to find the right one.”

“But I suspect it’s because you told him the fate of my previous one,” Artemis argued. 

He smirked a little, and then shrugged. “I might have… let slip that your dreadful stepmother poisoned your dog over a few drinks. However, he did take the initiative to find you a new one.”

“That was very kind of him,” she said decidedly. Her cheeks flushed a little at her next statement, and she looked away, hoping Loki hadn’t noticed. “And I wanted to thank you for being such a gentleman when I… was out of sorts.”

The man chuckled and then licked his lips, pausing as though he needed to gather the right words. “My lady, I don’t think you’ve actually seen someone out of sorts if you believe you were a handful.”

“I’ve seen plenty of drunks before,” Artemis scoffed, nudging him as he laughed again, clearly not taking her claim seriously. “My cousin is the God of Wine!”

“Well, regardless,” Loki continued, his hands clasped together behind his back as he surveyed her, “you were nothing I couldn’t handle. You were really quite charming, actually.”

“All right, all right,” she muttered. “You don’t need to lie-“

“I’m not doing anything of the sort,” he insisted. “I found you charming, even if you think otherwise. Have you returned to the Bifrost since?”

“No.”

“Don’t let a drunken night,” he started, and held up a finger, “the first of its kind here, I might add, deter you from enjoying yourself. My mother has seen her fair share of intoxicated evenings over the course of her reign as queen… Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

No matter what he said to her, she still felt like a fool for her actions. 

“It isn’t your job to make me feel better,” Artemis told him after a moment or so of silence. 

“I know.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, hopefully for the last time. There weren’t many others who went out of their way to ensure she wasn’t feeling lonely or upset here in Asgard, and she certainly didn’t want to frighten away the one who did by having a poor attitude. 

“I won’t keep you,” Loki told her, nodding in the direction where she had last seen Thor and Callisto. “Go enjoy your gift… My brother worked… very hard to find it.”

“Come with me,” Artemis ordered, quick to latch her arm around his and tug him along the hall. “I think your brother worked hard, yes, but he’ll be lost without you to lean on when we’re alone.”

“I cannot always be his crutch,” Loki argued. He might have been hesitant to some degree, but he still followed her down the hall without much of a fuss. “You two should spend time together.”

“Yes, in theory we should,” she muttered. 

Perhaps in theory only. Even now they weren’t going to be completely alone, but Artemis definitely preferred it that way. Even if Loki refused to remain part of their support system, she would always have her girls to act as a buffer between her and Thor. Was that the proper way to conduct a relationship? Certainly not… No, not at all. 

She sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone could make a super cute piece of fan art for the bit where Artemis opens the door to Thor holding a fat furball and Loki hovering behind, I'd love you forever.


	9. Knife in the Back

“Echo!” Artemis called, laughing a little as the pup’s ears quirked at the sound of her new name. “Not so close to the edge… Come here!”

The brown mass of fur returned to her side immediately and plopped down by Artemis’ legs, rolling onto her side with the silent demand for a rub. Artemis complied with an affectionate smile on her lips, running her hand through the beast’s thick fur as Echo’s tongue lolled out happily. 

It had been about a week and a half since Thor appeared at her door with her first gift, and it had been much more pleasant than the week before that. Although she was still acutely aware of how alone she was in this different world, she was beginning to feel the sense of comfort in her routine and an even greater sense of familiarity to her surroundings. She still spent most of her time in the palace, but she had gotten to know most of the floors and public areas fairly well with her handmaidens in tow. Twice now she had gone down to the training arena on her own accord, once to watch Thor and Loki work on the latter’s hand-to-hand combat skills, and another to participate, taking the time to teach the Warriors Three how to properly use a bow in battle. 

As predicted, Nomia fell in love with the new pup immediately, and she had a great deal of input in her care and naming. She and Artemis decided on Echo after they watched the portly pup yap back in a squeaky little voice whenever they spoke to her. Naturally, the nymph Echo wouldn’t be pleased that a dog had been named after her, but there literally wasn’t much she could say about it – Hera had cursed her some time ago and reduced her speaking ability to repeats of what the person she was talking to had just said. It was an unfortunate case, but once they gave the pup the name, she seemed taken with it, and what the real Echo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. The last Artemis had heard, she had taken up residence on some sandy beach on Earth, still heartbroken over that dolt Narcissus. 

The Asgardian hound proved a little more stubborn than any of the dogs she had ever had in the past, and Artemis chalked it up to breeding. However, she was still young, this dog, and even if she occasionally misbehaved, Artemis was still pleased to have her company. The creature, if left to her own devices, would follow Artemis from room to room, sometimes hiding beneath the skirts of her massive dresses. She remained incredibly happy with the gift Thor had bestowed upon her, and their relationship only seemed to improve from there. They always exchanged jests when she visited the arena, and she knew he spent most of that time trying to impress her with his physicality – none of that actually mattered to Artemis, mind you, considering her younger brother was the God of War, but she let it slide for now. At least Thor had begun to make an effort; they even sat together at meals, nestled between Callisto on one side and the Lady Sif on the other. 

The only downside to getting closer to Thor was that she had seen less of Loki as of late. He had a knack for making her feel more comfortable, but after he had insisted that he couldn’t always be Thor’s crutch, Artemis realized the man couldn’t be hers either. Yes, she felt less discomfort when he was near, but he was not going to be able to stay with them at all times; it was best to get used to his absence now. He was still present at meals, and they chatted contentedly in the arena and in group settings, but she had yet to see him alone since Thor delivered her pup. 

It had been the same for Frigga, actually. There were no more sewing lessons, and she wondered if someone might have stepped in on her behalf to inform the older goddess that the skills of a homemaker were not her forte. They were all still very polite with one another, and Artemis assumed that the queen approved of her for Thor, and therefore no longer had any need to suss out her motives or watch her. Instead, she assumed that it was time for her relationship with Frigga to develop organically, and they would either like or dislike one another on their own terms, not because they were forced to interact for the sake of an arranged marriage. All of that was perfectly acceptable to Artemis; the woman was exceptionally pleasant, but she was sick of sitting up straight as a board with her in some parlor with a sewing kit on her lap. One might think she would have more in common with Odin than Frigga, but the king of Asgard gave her much less attention than he did his sons, which was to be expected of course. 

For the time being, Artemis felt secure about her position in Asgard, but these things could always change from one day to another. She had her handmaidens scouting for gossip throughout the palace, but she hadn’t heard anything negative about herself thus far. Naturally, she was sure there were people out there who disliked her, but her girls weren’t about to bring that sort of energy back. Artemis had never cared what the gossips thought about her, neither on Olympus nor on Earth, and that wasn’t about to change now that she was in Asgard. It might influence how those around her see her, particularly Thor’s mother, but she was also quite certain she hadn’t done anything thus far to give much fuel to that fire. 

If anything, Artemis may have been perceived as quite boring. She swam in the private pools daily, walked around the palace courtyard, had meals with her surrogate family, and spent time training Echo the basic commands. Yes, she and Thor occasionally spent an evening sitting together on a balcony, but the conversation had never been anything scandalous, and the only thing she had kissed thus far was his cheek. Her life, though secure and safe, was extraordinarily dull. However, Artemis would take that any day over a life with some brute and a family that brought nothing but insecurity and nerves. Her situation could have been much direr, much more dangerous, so she really ought to thank her father for finding her a suitable place to live.

Of course, she was still upset with the great Zeus for marrying her off to anyone at all. He had made her a promise that she could stay single for eternity if she desired it, and yet here she was, a year away from becoming the wife of an Asgardian god. Yes, it could be much worse, but it certainly wasn’t the ideal situation for her. 

She glanced down at the silver ring on her finger, cocked her head to the side, and then brought it up to examine under the starlight. 

While intoxicated, she recalled promising Loki that she would visit the beautiful rainbow bridge every night in order to look at the stars. She had been too embarrassed to venture back immediately, but for the past two nights Artemis had grabbed Echo and drifted down on her own. No one had stopped her, nor had they questioned where she was going. She spent the first two nights seated on the bridge, laughing as Echo pounced after the occasional beam of light that shot through the floor. Artemis also studied the city of Asgard from a distance, getting herself accustomed to the flow and feel of it from a solitary location. 

Thus far, no one had crossed the bridge while she was on it, and she spent a few hours in peace out there before dragging herself back in to get ready for bed. 

Thor had given her a ring two nights ago, one that would be a public symbol of their engagement, and she decided very quickly that he knew exactly how to give gifts. She preferred the silver to a gold piece, and was very pleased that it was merely a small band with diamonds embedded in it; nothing stuck out, and there was no way that it would catch on anything. She would have found a massive ring with a dozen crystals quite distasteful, so despite the fact her handmaidens thought it was much too small for the future queen of Asgard, Artemis privately decided that it was just perfect. 

Echo yapped at something suddenly, which startled her out of her thoughts, and she watched the pup bounce across the bridge after a flash of light whizzed by. She wasn’t exactly sure what this bridge was made of, nor did she know how it pulsated with various colours, but it was slowly becoming her favourite place to be in all of Asgard. There was only one part of the bridge she had yet to explore, and she was fairly sure it would be off-limits unless she was traveling. 

Artemis glanced back toward Heimdall’s golden fort at the end of the bridge. She had heard much about this man, yet had only seen him once when she first arrived in Asgard. Since then, the protector of the realm seemed stationary at his post at all times, and had never once ventured up to the palace for any sort of festivity. 

She studied the travel portal of Asgard for a few moments longer, and then debated going down there to find the gatekeeper. The rumours that surrounded the man were astronomical, but what she was most interested in was his ability to see the past and the future, in this realm and many others. Although it might spoil some things for her, Artemis wouldn’t mind at least knowing that her marriage to Thor would be a happy one, and if it wasn’t, then she might take steps to change it before anything too drastic happened. 

But then again, it wasn’t in her nature to seek out strangers and ask favours of them. So, she decided against it – for now – and instead eased herself back onto the bridge, hands resting on her stomach as she studied the stars.

* * *

Loki was actually quite proud of himself. He had set his growing attraction for Artemis aside and put all of his energy into making her relationship with Thor a successful one. After all, if Thor was to become king as their father desired, he would need a sturdy background at home to keep him grounded. His brother could be quite scattered sometimes, and his fancy could be swayed this way and that with careful persuasion. Naturally, Loki was the one who manipulated the blond Asgardian best, but he certainly did not want other interested parties to sneak in with his approaching ascent to monarch. 

Artemis seemed incredibly focused, and she wasn’t the type to demand riches or conquered worlds from her husband. He predicted that this Olympian would make their kingdom stronger, but only if she felt secure and loved in her marriage. Otherwise, Loki assumed she would find something else to occupy her time – possibly hunting or dog collecting – and the kingdom would be subjected to Thor’s rule and his rule alone.

It had been difficult to distance himself from her, particularly when Artemis was so happy to see him, but Loki knew it needed to be done. Instead, he threw himself into combat training; his magic was getting stronger, yes, but in the process he had neglected the physical aspect of battle, and he slacked behind even Volstagg at this point. Naturally, Thor was eager to throw him into the arena, and his older brother pounded away at his shield and swords without a hint of mercy, but Loki knew the man did it to make him a better warrior. Thor may have been selfish about a number of things in this world, but he was remarkably selfless when it came to training Loki. Mind you, if there were others around he was far less lenient, and Loki usually ended up with his face in the dirt. However, that only meant he would grow faster from the humiliation. 

Well, in theory anyway. 

Thor seemed to think that giving Artemis that dog would be enough to satisfy her for now, but Loki continued to push him to do more. Whenever they had dinners together, he indirectly sat everyone in a spot that would put Thor and Artemis together. Loki insisted that Thor take some time out of his evenings to talk with his intended and try to get to know her, though he was fairly sure their conversations hadn’t gone much deeper than the state of the weather. He had also pushed his brother to buy Artemis an engagement ring, commenting that it ought not to be flashy, but something that would show the world that they were a unified couple. 

Thor’s willingness to go with almost everything Loki suggested almost made him think that his brother leaned on him too much. However, if this was what it took to get those two settled and strong, then Loki would stick it out for a little while longer. Eventually, Thor would be able to come up with little romantic ideas all on his own; after all, he had done a good job finding an appropriate ring for Artemis with only slight prodding from Loki, and she seemed very pleased with it. He let Thor take the credit for that, as Loki usually did, but deep down he was quite proud of himself for orchestrating most of their interactions without coming across as though he was interfering with anything. 

It was difficult to watch Artemis shower Thor with praise when some of his actions were brought on by Loki, but he could make due for now. He had been working hard to force those two to spend time with each other; surely even his father would notice and give him the credit he deserved. He wasn’t doing it all in order to earn Odin’s attentions, but a small part of him wanted that nod of approval from his father for all the hard work he done lately for the sake of his brother’s relationship. 

After spending most of the day in the arena, Loki was physically exhausted. He had taken his meal in his room, preferring to eat in bed with a book rather than at the dinner table with Thor and the Warriors Three. Meal times in his family were occasionally required to be eaten together, but on days that had no significance, his parents usually ate separately from he and Thor, which meant no one would notice if he ate privately. He showered after his meal, and then grabbed one of his newest books and decided to spend the rest of the night sprawled out on the couch the private room that he and Thor shared. It was quite a long march, considering his bedroom was in the bowels of the palace, but he could find his way there with his eyes closed should he desire to do so. 

The palace was always pleasantly quiet at night. There were the odd times that nobles lingered later than dinner, but it was only at the personal invite of his father. Once the sun had set, the giant building belonged to the royal family and their servants; no one else needed to be there, and that was what Loki liked best. 

He climbed the darkened stairwell, knowing that the fire would burn low in the hearth at the top, giving him the perfect lighting for the horror fiction he had recently purchased at the market. However, before he could even get the top of the stairwell, he realized the room that belonged solely to him and Thor was occupied in the most intimate way possible. Frowning, his skipped two steps at a time, quite eager to throw some randy servants down the entire flight of stairs for desecrating their private space, but he was forced to come to a quick stop in the doorway. 

There was his brother seated on his couch, pants off, with the Lady Sif straddling his waist in an equal state of undress. She moaned noisily, his hands on her legs as her hips ground against him at a furious pace. 

Loki’s jaw dropped a little, and although it made him want to pluck his eyes out, he couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. Was Thor actually doing that? After all the effort he had put in lately with Artemis, Loki almost naively assumed that his brother would forgo his unnecessary affair with his childhood crush for the sake of his future relationship. Well, clearly he had been stupid to think that way; it was clear that their stolen glances and shared little jokes hadn’t gone anywhere, so it made perfect sense that he was still fucking her. 

“Really?” Loki demanded noisily, making Sif cry out in surprise. He shook his head at them, and then threw his book moodily to the ground. “On my couch no less?”

“Brother-“

“Speak to me when you have your trousers on,” Loki snapped as he turned away, storming down the stairs in a rage. 

After all the work that Loki had done for him… All the time he had devoted to getting Thor and Artemis to a comfortable place, and he still feels the need to carry on his dalliances as though the Olympian barely mattered to him? Why did he even bother?! 

He vaguely heard footsteps coming after him, but they stopped halfway down the stairs. Loki barely paid them any attention, and instead found himself wandering angrily toward the floor where Artemis was housed. His feet moved quickly, a scowl on his lips. At this very moment, it felt as though all the hard work he had been putting in recently was for nothing. The only person he could actually think of seeing right now was the one he had forced himself to stay away from, and he realized that too had been a waste. If Thor could continue having his way with Sif behind closed doors, Loki shouldn’t feel the need to squash his growing attraction for Artemis. 

Her door was closed upon his arrival, and it took him a few moments before he could actually force himself to knock, and a flood of adrenaline rushed through him as he did. However, there was no immediate answer, and he knocked again on the off chance that she might have been napping. After that was no response from his third knock, he deduced that she must not have been in. 

Where else would she be at this hour? He knew she had frequented the family’s pools lately, but it seemed a little too late for any of that. She would have already eaten something, and she had no real private places to herself, so Loki stood in the dark hall at a complete loss. His annoyance with his brother lingered still, and that propelled him up toward the floor that housed her three handmaidens. If she wasn’t with them, they ought to at least know where he could find her. 

However, before he could get up there, his attention was taken by a giggle from the floor above Artemis’, which he needed to pass through in order to reach the handmaiden’s tower. It sounded familiar, and yet Loki couldn’t quite place it as he stalked toward it. Honestly, was everyone in this palace having some sort of sexual release tonight but him? His features hardened when he heard the laughter again, this time accompanied by a voice he knew far too well. 

“Fandral,” he greeted noisily as he pushed open a curtain that divided a small parlor from the main hallway. He watched Artemis’ servant, Aora, leap off the man as though he was on fire, and she hastily tried to pull the top of her dress back up. 

“Ah,” Loki chuckled, shaking his head at the dark nymph, “would you be so kind as to tell me where your mistress has gone?”

“She… She’s down on that bridge,” the girl squeaked shakily. He nodded and then turned away, reveling in the fact that he could embarrass yet another couple for the evening, and he heard her call after him. “Please don’t tell her…”

Loki shot her a look over his shoulder, but he was careful to conceal his expression. If anything, this little incident had given him an ally, one that would prove more useful than any of his own servants. They may have been able to monitor Artemis’ whereabouts, but they certainly wouldn’t be able to deduce what she was feeling about anything. Now that one of her handmaidens owed him a favour, as he had no intention of telling Artemis of the nymph’s alone time with Fandral, Loki realized he had a massive advantage to add to the many he already had over Thor. 

He should have guessed that she would have been down near the Bifrost. She may have had her reservations about returning after he had found her there while intoxicated, but it seemed like a natural place for a woman who craved nature to flock to. He almost ran there, the anger he felt for Thor’s arrogance and the confidence he had from catching the nymph propelling him through the palace and its courtyard in near record speed. No one bothered him, not a guard or a servant, and Loki only slowed his pace when he came to a halt at the foot of the rainbow bridge. 

The first thing he spotted was that new creature of hers bouncing along, barking happily at the soft shocks of light traveling through the core of the bridge. It forced him to smile a little, and he found Artemis stretched out at the midpoint of structure, flat on her back as she had been on the night he showed her a little bit of his magic. For a moment, he hesitated. What was he doing? What was the purpose of going to see her? Would this, in any way, spite Thor? All he wanted to do was throw something back in his brother’s face, just as he had done to Loki tonight with Sif. He suspected that all this visit would accomplish would be to bring suppressed feelings back to the surface. Did he need that? Did he even want that?

He almost turned back, but when he heard Artemis calling for her hound, calling for Echo, he couldn’t force himself to take a step toward the palace. Instead, he found he could only move onto the bridge; deep down, he knew exactly what he wanted, even if his brain forced a dozen other questions out there in order to deter him. 

A soft breeze billowed passed as he moved along the bridge. The hound noticed him first, her ears up and alert as he approached. Even though she knew exactly who Loki was, she still yapped at him, barely sounding ferocious as her tailed wiggled back and forth at him. 

“She really is such a tough thing,” Artemis commented as she propped herself up on her elbows. “I suspect I’ll never have to worry about being robbed…”

Loki grinned as he crouched down to give the creature a pat, his eyes lingering on Artemis. Her light brown dress had hitched up to her knees, and he couldn’t help but gaze at the smooth legs and bare feet out on display. 

“It feels like I haven’t seen you in a while,” she noted as he moved to stand near her. “Sit… Tell me where you’ve been.”

He could actually feel the tension in his shoulders easing away when she smiled up at him, and Loki settled down at a safe distance nearby. However, with all he had seen tonight from various parties, he decided it was perfectly acceptable to sit a little closer than necessary and scooted forward accordingly. Artemis hardly seemed to have noticed, as she had let herself fall down onto her back, her hands resting on her stomach. He watched them rise and fall with each breath she took, and only came back to reality when she nudged him with her foot. 

“I’ve been training a lot,” Loki told her after a moment of consideration. That was mostly true, after all. “My physical skills have been a little sub-par lately.”

“Well, I think anyone competing against your brother will appear sub-par,” Artemis mused softly. She grinned a little as she glanced back at him. “He seems a little competitive… sometimes unnecessarily so.” 

Loki grinned, pleased that she picked up on that, but then shrugged it off as though it was nothing. “It’s good, you see… It makes me perform better than I would if he wasn’t pushing me.”

“I suppose. I don’t think I’ll ever quite understand male competitiveness…”

“I think that’s because you’re better than us at most things,” Loki chuckled, which earned him a bit of a smirk. 

“Flatterer.” 

If she had been in any other situation, Loki would have reached out and ran a finger along her ankle. The skin looked so smooth, so soft, and he wanted nothing more than to touch it. The moment would have been right at this point, and he was sure Artemis would have let him, perhaps watched him and then smiled. However, he couldn’t do any of that, and neither could she. Instead, he knitted his fingers together to keep them from acting on their own accord. 

“I think it’s interesting that you share many of the same constellations as Earth,” she noted. “Many of them are named after Olympians and our ilk.”

“Really?”

“Yes, come here,” she ordered, patting the spot next to her lightly. “Let me show you…”

He blinked down at her, and when he hesitated, Artemis beckoned him forward once more. Well, who was he to refuse such a pleasant invitation? Loki glanced up at Heimdall’s domain as he moved, and once again noted that the gatekeeper remained out of sight for the duration of their interactions. He shifted forward, and was soon on his back next to her, his hands resting on his stomach as she had done. Suddenly, she moved much closer, her head tilted so that it was next to his, and she pointed up toward the sky. 

“Do you see that?” she asked softly, tracing her slim finger along two of the known constellations. “The Greeks called those the Big and Little Bear… They were named after Callisto.”

“Your Callisto?” Loki inquired, surprised that humans had named a group of stars after a servant. 

“Yes,” she laughed, her voice clear and crisp in the quiet night. “They had a story claiming my father raped her and gave her a son… and to spare her Hera’s rage, he turned them both loose upon the Heavens, so they could continue their days in peace as bears among the stars.”

“Quite a story.”

“There are many the humans seem to have embellished,” she insisted. “My girl has been chaste since I found her… I would never let my father near her.”

Loki studied the two constellations she pointed out, trying to find the name Asgardians had for them. He fell short, wishing he had paid more attention in his studies of astronomy. To him, they were just stars in certain shapes, but it seemed to Artemis that they had a life of their own. 

“Oh, and this one,” she murmured, sitting up a little to point at a pattern on the far side of the sky, her arm only just grazing him as she moved, “is associated with my twin brother. It’s called Crater on Earth… They say Apollo punished a crow who lingered on a quest to bring my brother a drink by turning it, a water serpent, and the cup into stars… That is the cup.”

“You all seem to punish those who do not do exactly as you bid,” Loki chuckled. “Should I be concerned?” 

She grinned, her eyes alight in a way he hadn’t seen before, and then settled back onto her back.

“That particular story was true,” Artemis insisted, her head to the side as she gazed at him. His eyes met hers, and he felt them wander down to her lips as she spoke, unable to help himself. “My brother claims the crow tried to trick him… Apollo may be a trickster on occasions, but he will not stand to be deceived himself.”

Loki nodded, as though understanding of her brother’s behaviour, but the only thing on his mind was whether or not he ought to kiss her. He knew he shouldn’t, but with the way this night had gone, it was a surprise he had lasted this long. If Thor could betray all the effort Loki had put into his relationship with Artemis, why couldn’t Loki do the same?

He leaned forward with devious intentions, but at that very moment Artemis turned her head away, excitedly pointing out another constellation. He swallowed thickly, and then looked up at the grouping to their left with forced curiosity. 

Thank goodness she hadn’t noticed his actions – it might have ruined everything. The desire to kiss her was simply a moment of weakness, a need to get back at his brother, and he would have unnecessarily spoiled his growing friendship with the woman by doing something rash. 

“If you look really hard,” Artemis said, carrying on as though nothing had happened, “you’ll see that it’s shaped like an archer… That one was named after Orion, we were…” She trailed off, and then cleared her throat. “He was a hunting companion of mine… famously so.”

His eyebrows shot up as he studied her, not the constellation; had she just admitted to him that she had had a lover? The tint of colour on her cheeks and the way she hesitated seemed to indicate that this Orion character had been more than a mere hunting companion, and Loki realized he could see Artemis in a different sort of light now. He had been under the impression that Artemis was pure, virginal, hence the reason she had been chosen to become Thor’s wife. It certainly didn’t bother him, but it came as a surprise. He wouldn’t say anything, naturally – Loki never blurted useful information unless absolutely necessary. 

“Is he still alive?” Loki inquired carefully. “Or is this a companion from the ancient days of that planet?”

“No, he lingers still,” she remarked quickly, her nimble fingers fiddling with her dress, “but he ages finally… I gave him the grace of long life, but I’ve been in Olympus for quite some time now, and my influence wanes the longer I am away.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted when she looked at him once more. 

He wasn’t. 

“He’s only a human,” Artemis told him. “They all die someday.”

Loki nodded, pleased to see that her adoration of one human did not extend to all Midgardians. They stared at one another for a moment, and he felt that overwhelming urge to kiss her once more. Honestly, he should avoid all situations where her face was illuminated by starlight. 

However, this time he didn’t need to restrain himself, as the moment was spoiled when Echo clambered clumsily across Artemis’ stomach, forcing her to laugh. The pup nestled into the space between their bodies, tail smacking against both of them as those large blue eyes surveyed both Loki and Artemis happily. Loki watched Artemis pat her canine companion, and then turned his gaze back to the stars, content to stay there all night as the pair fell into a very comfortable silence.


	10. A Poor Hunter

Today, Artemis was finally going to get the chance to be herself. It was a chance to be free, to be an individual, to be happy. Today, she was going hunting.

It had been Thor’s idea to do it. Apparently, after listening to all the wonderful stories that Artemis and her handmaidens had accumulated over the years, he thought it would be an exciting way to spend an afternoon as a group. He had proposed the idea over dinner the night before, a private dinner that had been organized for just the two of them, and it took every ounce of her self-restraint not to leap across the table and kiss him. Mind you, she had no real desire to kiss him, but when he presented her with the idea of an afternoon hunting trip, the urge was quite overwhelming. However, it was a gesture of gratitude that she wished to portray, not attraction. 

It wasn’t to say that Artemis wasn’t attracted to Thor. Physically, she could appreciate him as a man, and he certainly had some handsome features to his physique, much like Orion did. However, it was his personality that she felt was their main source for the lack of chemistry. Yes, he was very friendly, outgoing, and always one to step forth should a task need to be done. However, it was the stereotypical brute behaviour that threw her off. She could tolerate men acting like men – in fact, there had been a time where she encouraged it. When they did behave in such a way, unfortunately, Artemis found herself gravitating toward them with friendship in mind. Now, friendship was a necessity for a good marriage, and if that was her trajectory, then so be it. However, it would have been better if there had been some romantic spark to catch her interest immediately, but perhaps it would grow with time. Artemis knew she could be patient if she wished, and her relationship with Thor might require a great deal of patience if she was going to endure it. 

Artemis had been on Asgard for almost three months at this point, and she found herself much less lonely. It had become much easier to fall into Thor’s inner circle of friends when she stopped segregating her spare time from them. At first, it had been all too easy to drag her handmaidens away and spend her days in solitude with no one else at her side. It was as if she did not want to even begin to set down roots in Asgard, worried that she would lose her ties to Olympus if she let anyone else into her private world. 

However, Callisto finally took her aside and insisted on the importance of making strong connections with her husband’s companions, as they would be infinitely helpful in her future should she ever need anything. Besides, the Warriors Three had their own charming qualities that she could appreciate, particularly when they stopped placing her on a pedestal in the training arena, as though she might break apart at the first blow. When she proved that she was just as good at handling an axe as Volstagg, or almost as skilled as Hogun when it came to knife wielding, Artemis was wholly accepted into the training arena without a complaint. 

The Lady Sif was similar to her in personality, and Artemis found it easiest to bond with her over a moderately sized glass of wine and a deck of cards. The Asgardian woman seemed to handle Thor with ease, and Artemis planned to take advantage of their obvious friendship – which had developed since childhood, apparently – when it came closer to the time of her wedding. Men knew little of the true desires of women, and should Artemis be concerned about how her intended may react or not in certain situations, she was sure she could count on Lady Sif to give her pointers. Her interactions with Thor might be perceived as flirtatious, especially if they had been drinking, but Artemis merely shrugged it off. No jealousy emerged should she catch Sif clutching Thor’s arm during a jest; her reaction was usually quite the opposite – pleasure that someone else distracted Thor’s focus. Men and women were always going to share an energy that underlined some more basic desires, but Artemis had never once thought for more than a second that her intended and the Lady Sif went beyond their childhood friendship into something deeper. 

If they had done so in the past, that was hardly her concern – she was not the virgin she pretended to be, no matter what her father thought. Therefore, Thor’s previous sexual relationships were hardly any of her business, and she had no intention of ever prying. 

Now, it took her a few weeks to truly find herself settled among Thor’s friends, but before that she felt as though her friendship with Loki had been settled. Just as Thor had Sif to lean on in group settings, Artemis was sure her fiancé would be pleased that his brother was there to distract Artemis whenever the desire took him. The Asgardian god was different than any man she had ever associated with before, and it was shockingly refreshing. Thor and his companions had never been a mystery to her, not from the second she arrived in the realm. However, Loki continued to elude her understanding, though it was fairly obvious why he was labeled the Trickster of Asgard. He had a bit of a skill for pranks, and sometimes she saw them in action, while other times he merely filled her in on them later when they sat together at dinner. Her usual response was to scold him lightly, but the mirth in her eyes made it plain that she appreciated the humour. When they were alone, Loki was interesting, intelligent, and clearly keen on keeping their budding friendship going. 

There were other facets to his personality, naturally. He looked up to Thor, that much was obvious, and Artemis could detect moments of jealousy and annoyance whenever the darker of the princely brothers was overlooked by their father. In a way, she could understand the frustration, particularly since she grew up in the shadow of more impressive sisters. It wasn’t something she would discuss with him unless he brought it up, as she noticed he went to great lengths to conceal his more negative emotions regarding Thor’s behaviour or Odin’s ignorance to his actions. Besides, men usually did not appreciate their weaknesses brought up in regular conversation, and while he may have been vexing, Loki was still a man at his core, and Artemis had no desire to ever embarrass him. 

Out of all her new friends in Asgard, Loki was the one she wanted to be with the most. Whenever they were together, she had absolutely no idea where they would end up, and in a way, it was exciting. Whenever she was alone with Thor, she could almost plan out her conversation topics in advance, and all of them would be covered with minimal detail, and then the two would go their separate ways. They spoke much more freely when they were in a group setting, which contrasted her relationship with his brother; she and Loki spoke of all things in private – family, friends, pets, the economic and social customs of Asgard… Not everything was interesting, mind you, but it was the way they shaped their discussions that kept Artemis coming back for more. Loki was playful in private, and respectful in public, and she appreciated that. 

After all, the pair spent a great deal of time together with and without a pair of chaperones. People were bound to notice their closeness, the way they could both silently laugh at something ridiculous with a mere raising of an eyebrow and a look – well, people were bound to talk. Thor seemed to hardly bat an eye at the friendship, and was always pleased to wander in on the two of them alone in a garden chatting. Never once had her intended expressed a dislike for either of their behaviour. In fact, no one that mattered had discouraged her relationship with Loki, so she had no intentions of limiting the way she interacted with him for the sake of the gossips. 

Oh, and there were gossips. Artemis finally cornered Nomia one morning and demanded to know what had been said about her, mostly for her own curiosity. The human handmaiden was always the first to break under a direct order, and that time had been no exception. The servants thought her frigid with Thor, but curiously amiable otherwise, though the demands she had for Echo could sometimes be taxing. The nobles were displeased that Artemis never followed Frigga around at social gatherings, though it was mostly the women that had this complaint. The man, on the other hand, dismissed her as a second Lady Sif: full of fight, masculine energy, and a desire to blend in with Thor’s men. Nomia knew less about the people of Asgard, but Artemis barely had a reputation beyond the palace – which was both a blessing and a curse, as it meant no one would start up ridiculous rumours about her, but eventually she would need to make a name for herself in association with Thor if she was destined to be queen. 

Nothing that the gossips said had affected her, even though she knew she ought to care what people thought. However, Artemis had never been in a position before that required her to be concerned with what other people thought of her. She never forced cities to make her their patron goddess, nor did she pay much attention to what her family members thought of her opinions on the High Council. However, to be another person of a ruling pair… Well, sometime in the future she ought to start caring what the popular opinion of her was, but not today. 

No, today she was going hunting. 

The excitement had been building since the night before, and Artemis actually found it difficult to force herself to go to sleep. Somehow she managed, and met up with everyone for a late breakfast. Apparently, the animals were most sluggish in the warm afternoons in Asgard, and since hunting wasn’t a custom amongst the people, the creatures were slow to react when encroached upon. In a way, that made the thrill of the hunt diminish a tad – why chase something that doesn’t have the sense to run? However, she wasn’t about to complain about anything and spoil the day, so she kept her mouth shut and nodded along as the men boasted about their own experiences hunting. From what she could gather, Hogun was the one who had hunted for necessity, Fandral for sport, and Volstagg for fine food, but their ventures were few and far between. 

It was surprising that the royal family did not participate in any sort of hunting, and it was a tradition she planned to change once she was queen; her husband would hunt, she would hunt, and their children would be pristine hunters by the time they reached childhood. 

After a leisurely breakfast in the main hall with the entire group, Artemis returned to her room to begin prepping with her handmaidens. They adorned themselves in knee-length riding dresses that connected between their legs in order to facilitate movement; she never understood women who only hunted in dresses, and then whined about losing their dignity when the skirt flew up in pursuit. There was also no room for jewels or fancy hairstyles, and Artemis reveled in the simplistic look that Callisto conjured as she braided a crown of hair around her head. No make-up, no perfumes, no nothing. This day was about getting back into nature, even if it was a natural world that Artemis was not wholly familiar with. 

No matter… There would be time for that today. Her mood was understandably chipper as she flitted about the room, and it was infectious enough to bring all of her handmaidens up to her level. Aora seemed the most thrilled to be hunting as a party, and Artemis was pleased to see the nymph embracing the art more so here on Asgard than she ever did on Earth. 

She was forced to calm herself as she neared the stables, as her energy was bound to either spook or excite her borrow horse, and neither were needed on a hunt. They thought they were the first to arrive, but Artemis was pleasantly mistaken when she saw Loki emerge from one of the stalls. 

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, squinting a little when he stepped out in the sun. She smiled happily as he approached her, and then leaned upward to accept a chaste kiss on her cheek. This was how they had come to greet one another as of late, and Artemis thought nothing of it. After all, they were going to be family soon enough – if Thor was the one receiving a kiss from her, then it was hardly an issue for her to receive one from (but not give one to) Loki. 

His eyes drifted out toward her handmaidens, who were eager to choose a horse of their own, and he dipped his head a little. “Ladies.”

A chorus of responses filtered out after, and Artemis rolled her eyes at the strain in their voices. “All right, go pick a horse then!”

She laughed a little as the women hurried off to a line of unclaimed horses, ignoring those on the opposite side of the stable as they already belonged to another. 

“Excited, aren’t they?” Loki chuckled, arms folded across his chest as he surveyed her handmaidens with her through careful eyes. 

“Yes, they’ll give their horses quite the scare if they don’t control themselves,” Artemis droned. She arched an eyebrow when Loki shot her a bit of a look, and she shrugged. “What?”

“You,” he insisted as he nudged her. “I’m sure if you had less control, you would be far worse than all three of them combined.”

Her cheeks pinked at the thought of being read so easily, and then shook her head in an attempt to appear nonchalant. 

“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about,” she spouted snottily, and then shot him a sly grin when he chuckled. “This is going to be the best day I’ve had so far… I can tell.”

“Oh,” he breathed, touching a hand to his heart as his chest crumbled inward, “and here I thought your best day had been that night on the bridge, sprawled beneath the stars in drunken bliss with me-“

“Stop that,” she ordered, poking him sharply enough to make him back away as he laughed. “We do not talk about that night.”

“Oh, I shall come here every night,” he purred in a sing-song voice, twirling his finger as he gestured up toward the sky. He went to sing more, but her poke turned into a punch soon enough, and he had to recoil away in order to not get another, hands up defensively. “All right, all right… You’ll crack a rib, my lady.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed, ears perking when she detected the familiar sound of an approaching party. Artemis glanced over her shoulder, and she immediately spotted Thor strolling through the entrance of the stable, clad in a plethora of metal and chainmail. Artemis kept herself from shaking her head, but honestly… he wasn’t going to war, he was going to hunt. 

“No Echo today, my lady?” he asked as he neared, pausing to let her kiss his cheek before clapping his brother on the arm. Loki grinned in return, affection quite obvious between the pair. 

“Oh, she’s far too small to run with all these horses,” Artemis commented as she stepped around Loki, trailing after Thor as her excitement bubbled. “Perhaps in a few weeks… maybe a month.”

“Yes, well, I suspect she will have plenty of opportunities to show her worth,” Thor chuckled. She watched him open the gate to his horse’s stall, a magnificent black steed, and then get to work saddling the beast. It was a continued surprise that the princes did not have servants waiting to ready their horses, but perhaps they preferred to handle such tasks themselves. 

“Does that mean there will be more hunting trips?” Artemis inquired hopefully, and she heard Thor chuckle in response from the other side of his horse.

“As many as would make you happy, my lady.”

An infinite number then. Artemis grinned at the thought, and then felt Loki tug at her arm in order to get her attention back. He gestured toward a brown steed in the stall next to Thor’s. 

“I’ve taken the liberty of selecting a horse for you,” he explained as she approached the gate, eyeing the beast with a calculating gaze. “He is young, but incredibly fast.”

“Small,” Artemis noted, her eyes wandering down to his legs as she pursed her lips. She flinched a little when she felt Loki’s warm breath tickle her ear. 

“Ah, but the forests beyond the mountains are thick,” he murmured. She glanced to her side, eyes wandering down to his lips, and then followed the direction of his nod. “Large horses struggle through the woodlands… I think yours will fare well.”

Thor’s beast was remarkably large… It was bound to walk heavy and frighten away any game in sight. Mind you, the same could be said for its rider. 

“Apparently you’ve done me a wonderful favour,” Artemis noted softly, “yet again.”

“I think I happen to like you,” Loki informed her, which made her smirk, “but only a little. My horse is the best of the group.”

Artemis laughed a little, and then watched him depart from her side, disappearing moments later into the depths of his personal stall. From there, she decided to be much more appreciative of a small steed, and carefully made her way inside to investigate further. He was a chocolate brown with light eyes with a near blond hue to his mane and tail. Sturdy, small, and already stomping at his impatience to get free from the stable: Artemis could certainly work with this. However, what she could not work with was the cumbersome saddle and riding gear that had been provided. Sometimes she went with a saddle, but generally preferred to go bareback. So, she merely added the bridle and reins, and then took a few moments to give the horse a good brushing. His limbs quivered excitedly at the prospect of a ride, and Artemis smiled; she knew exactly how he felt. 

The Warriors Three and Lady Sif arrived some time shortly after Thor, just as she led her horse out of his stall. Loki had done the same at her left, and she reached out to run her hand along his mare’s side. The creature snorted happily in response. 

“She’s lovely,” Artemis observed as she strolled around to the creature’s head, tickling her nose with a finger and grinning. Loki joined her, the reins tucked neatly in one palm as he took gave his beast an appreciative smile. “She seems so calm and gentle… very lovely.”

“Much like her rider,” Volstagg snorted as he passed, pushing Loki a little in the process. She watched Loki’s eyes narrow at the man’s back, and moments later, as the massive man tried to drag himself up and onto an already saddled white horse, the stirrup snapped noisily and Volstagg toppled to the ground. 

“Drunk already, Volstagg?” Lady Sif droned as she sauntered by, rolling her eyes a little. She also ignored the man’s extended hand in favour of readying her own horse, and Artemis heard Loki chuckle under his breath as the man tried to roll to his feet. 

“Did you do that?” she demanded quietly, shooting him a bit of a look when he smirked impishly. “Unfair fight!”

“Oh, Volstagg weighs triple of what I do,” Loki insisted lightly. “For all we know, his immense mass may have been his undoing.”

“Liar,” she muttered, giggling a little when he poked her side with a thin finger. 

“Prove it.”

“Oh, I shall,” she told him, her eyes narrowing down as a threat while he sauntered around to the other side of his horse. 

Artemis resumed stroking her own horse’s nose, hoping to establish a good connection before they ventured out together, and she saw Thor help hoist Lady Sif up onto her horse. She might have appreciated the gesture, but when her fiancé turned in Artemis’ direction, she hastily leapt up onto her horse’s bare back, never in need of any assistance to do so. 

“No saddle, my lady?” Thor inquired as he urged his horse toward hers, eyes wandering along the creature’s body. “Won’t that make today tedious?” 

“I learned to ride bareback,” Artemis insisted, grinning down at Callisto as the nymph appeared at her side to hand her a standard bow and quiver of arrows. She slid the strap of the quiver across her body, followed shortly by the bow. It was a comfortable, familiar position, to be certain. “I suspect you will start to feel the strains of riding long before I do.”

“I have no doubt,” Thor chuckled, and she watched him urge his horse forward toward the gate of the stables. The few servants that milled around nearby hurried out of the way as she brought her horse around to follow, and moments later the sound of eight other sets of hooves thundered after her. It was truly a glorious sound, one that made her heart warm, and as they raced through the back gate of the palace, Artemis felt as though she was finally free. 

Her horse’s thin frame may have been a little bony, which made the bareback a tad uncomfortable, but Artemis found it easy to push through and ignore. The familiar rhythm of movement kept her focused, grounded in reality, and it seemed as though she was flying. Onward, outward, and away from the palace, she inhaled deeply as the group pummeled through the long grasses in the fields that led away from the main city. Mountains loomed in the distance, ancient and overbearing, and Artemis quickly realized the natural elements of this realm would fascinate her almost as much as they did back home. Just as the city of Olympus felt more airy than Asgard, so too did the trees and rivers; the waters were a much richer, darker blue, while the trees that taunted her along the soft rolling hills in the distance were a dark green, thick in bush – vibrant. Olympus and its landscape were so light and breezy, so wonderful in its own light, and yet Asgard was truly a place to marvel at. 

She had not explored much of Earth beyond the Mediterranean, as it was the birthplace of her ancient worship, but she had gone north into Europe on a few hunting trips. It was there that she thought to make the comparison to Asgard, though Asgard was much grander than anything she might have seen on Earth. The greens were richer, the air was crisper, and the dirt that sounded beneath the hooves of her horse was much more constant. The pines were familiar, as were the rock formations, and Artemis soon realized that Odin and his ilk’s reputations were born from that realm on Earth, from those northern European and Scandinavian countries, and that was why she noticed the similarities. Perhaps it ought to be the other way around; those places on Earth were modeled after Asgard, just as Greece – for a time – had been fitted to represent Olympus.

Once they were in the open plains, the lengthy grasses tickling her sandaled foot, Artemis and her handmaidens spread out, laughing gaily as they urged their horses forward with much urgency, a private race to see who might make it to the dark treeline fastest. In the end, Aora beat Callisto by a hair, and Artemis lingered a little so that Nomia would not feel so terrible for losing; it seemed she had chosen the slowest horse of the group, which appeared deeply off-putting to the young human. 

“We ought to go by foot,” Artemis insisted when the rest of the group caught up with them, her eyes peering deep into the bowels of the dark forest ahead of her. “It appears too thick for horses to travel.”

Callisto slid down from her horse first, and Hogun followed shortly after. Thor seemed to want to protest the decision, but as Loki eased himself down from his beast, her intended followed shortly after. 

Did he think the horse would carry the weight of his metal and steel for the duration of this trip? Perhaps now he would realize why she and her girls had dressed so light – to hunt was to become one with the forest, to move as light as air, and as silent as a shadow.Thor, Volstagg, and Fandral were all dressed in heavy garments that would make noise, and she quickly deduced that this would be an unsuccessful hunt if they were not careful. 

Swinging her leg to the other side, Artemis fell gracefully from her horse, her legs burning a little. It had been quite some time since her last ride, and the sheer power behind this horse had worn her down already. No matter. She would build up her endurance once more – this would not be the last day that she would race through these meadows, touch the pine needles.

They left the horses to graze in the grasses nearby, and Artemis made sure she removed her horse’s bit before leaving him to his own devices. He seemed the most content of all the beasts, pleased to not have a saddle covering his back, though she wondered if the warm Asgardian sun may start to get at him. Shade brimmed from the treeline, and she hoped the beast would be intelligent enough to wait for her in the shade should it grow weary in the heat. 

Hogun was designated as the tracker, coupled with Callisto and Lady Sif, as they entered the forest realm. Artemis was a skilled tracker herself, but she did not want the focus of this day to be on her. Yes, the reason they were hunting at all was because she had such an affinity for it, but she took care not to seem like a spoiled child for whom the world revolved around. So, she lingered back as the tracking began, settled between the two Asgardian princes, Thor in front of her and Loki behind. The forest was beautiful and dark, though it grew more and more quiet as the group traipsed through. She quickly realized that almost every living creature was aware of their presence. 

Thor explained that they were going to hunt a creature quite similar to Earth’s deer, though the Asgardian version had three horns spouting from its head, and was much larger. Artemis was eager to try her hand at Asgardian wildlife, keen to let loose an arrow into the skin of a creature she was not familiar with. Unfortunately, not everyone shared her focus for the hunt, and after an hour or so of marching through the trees, she noticed Thor and the Warriors Three had become bored with the quest. Their strides were much more relaxed, ignorant to the rocks they uprooted or the branches they snapped, and their jests started to grow louder with each passing minute. This clearly wasn’t a serious venture for them, whereas Artemis had built her life around the hunt, and occasionally felt a little insulted that they took it so lightheartedly.

“Wait,” Callisto ordered sharply, her voice breathy as she ducked down to the ground, her slim fingers trailing through the dirt. “They are near… The prints are fresh.”

Artemis ducked down to share the investigation, eyes scrutinizing the marks left behind, and then grinning at their size. Oh, this beast would be a beautiful challenge, and it would be honoured by her once it surrendered to her bow. 

“Well, onward then!” Fandral insisted, and Artemis watched with narrowed eyes as Aora shot him a bit of a look. It wasn’t as flirtatious as it could have been, but there were underlying tones that made Artemis uneasy. 

“No,” she said, her voice full of fervor and passion, yet soft enough so that those around her must strain to hear, “we are downwind from them.”

“How do you know?” Loki inquired thoughtfully, his voice the softest of the group. Actually, Lady Sif was the softest, but that was because she had not said much since they entered the wood, merely laughed along with her companions. 

“I can see them,” Artemis insisted, pointing up a gentle slope. In the distance, she had spotted the rustling of leaves, and when the group finally fell silent, they could hear the heavy footsteps of their prey. Just as Thor had mentioned, the beasts were unaccustomed to a hunting presence in the forest, and since they were so large, they clearly lacked natural enemies. It made them bold, to wander so near. However, they would surely smell them coming from their current location. 

“We are downwind,” Nomia noted, plucking at the string of her bow as she tried to see what the gods did with her weak human eyes. “They are merely tolerating us… for now.”

“Yes, they will certainly smell our approach,” Artemis noted. “We must get upwind should we stand a chance…”

“Well, off we go then!” Volstagg grunted, surging forward through the undergrowth quickly. “At last, something to do!”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at them, at all of them, as they hurried along after him. At this point, it was only Callisto and Artemis that seemed to appreciate the true skills one needed to hunt. Nomia seemed a little tired from all the walking, perhaps because she too was out of shape from their break, and Aora was once again keen to travel alongside Fandral. Once again, Loki and Lady Sif seemed to be the best of the bunch, but that hardly mattered when the rest thundered along without a care for their footwork. 

As she suspected, the group of beasts had dispersed once they reached the top of the gentle slope, and she could hear Volstagg’s disappointment at the effort he expended to get there. However, a soft sound caught Artemis’ ear, and she glanced over her shoulder to spy a small beast ambling away from them. It was a young male with three developing horns atop his head, but it was surely the size of a full-grown male deer on Earth. She smirked a little, and then carefully loaded her bow. There was no attention on her, not with the rest of the group investigating the spot where there must have been several of the creatures earlier. Artemis moved without making a sound, eyes trained on the beast as the rest of her body avoided branches, twigs, and rocks without distracting her. She then raised her bow, poised to loosen the arrow, only to hesitate when the creature stilled at the sound of Thor’s booming laughter from behind a bush. 

She sighed as the young buck raced off into the woods, clearly aware that someone had been stalking him away from the noisy group, and Artemis let her bow drop wordlessly. 

Frustration came easily as she stalked back to the group, but she forced herself to relax as she watched them chat and make jokes as though nothing else was wrong. She quickly realized that as maddening as this venture had been, the rest of them had simply been pleased with the company. Callisto may have been slightly annoyed too, but it was plain that she was trying very hard not to laugh at a joke told by Thor with Volstagg acting out the gesture dramatically. This day had simply been a different way that these friends spent time together – that was the point of the day. Artemis went on a hunt because she had an objective, and yet it seemed that while this day had been tailored to her, it was also an outing similar to that of a day at the beach or an afternoon in the arena. 

If she truly wanted to hunt, she would gather her handmaidens, Loki, and Lady Sif, and the five of them could have a serious day of pursuit. At that point, it would be best to leave the boys at home, oddly enough. Perhaps one day she might train Thor to become a better hunter, as it would make him a better warrior, but that day seemed quite distant as she watched him push branches aside and leave a path miles wide in his wake.

There was no grace to the march back, and at this point no one cared about whether or not the animals nearby heard them. The hunt was finished for the day as soon as hunger began to gnaw at them, and Artemis decided she ought to have her girls pack food for the next time; she would love to carry on and hunt by moonlight. However, she was resigned to the fact that this was all they would do today. 

“So,” Loki murmured, catching her arm gently to urge her to slow her pace and match his, “was this everything you could have hoped for and more?”

She detected the sauciness in his question, the sarcasm, and she shot him a look. The Asgardian grinned widely, and then chuckled. “Ah, as I thought.”

“It is not what I had hoped for,” Artemis told him as they strolled along together, “but it is what I should have expected.”

“Yes, you are at fault for having such high expectations,” Loki mused. “Did you ever think Volstagg could be graceful in the wood?”

“He is graceful in battle,” Artemis noted, which earned another deep chuckle. 

“Well, we are all graceful when lobbing the heads off our foes,” he insisted. “Like dancers.”

It was her turn to laugh now, and they hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. Just as she had hoped, the horses lingered in the fields to graze. She found her horse’s gear hanging from the tree where she had left it, and then smiled when the creature sauntered over to her without needing to be called. As she readjusted the reins and bit, she watched a flock of large birds shoot out from the canopy of the nearby trees, shrieking angrily as they went. The suddenness made her horse a little nervous, ears twitching this way and that, and Artemis was quick to soothe him. 

However, moments later, a chorus of wolfish howls emerged from the treeline, and Artemis only barely managed to keep hold of the reins as her horse reared back. The other horses around her did the same, and only Loki was unlucky enough not to grab hold of his beast in time. The mare reared and frantically danced out of reach, bolting back toward the city as Loki shouted after her.

“What is that?” Nomia demanded as Volstagg somehow managed to control both of their horses, the human too weak to manhandle a frightened Asgardian steed.

“Odin’s wolves,” Lady Sif replied as she wrestled her own horse back to a calm state.

“My father must have sent them to remind us not to linger too long out here,” Thor insisted as the clamor of horses died down. “Trolls, among other creatures, emerge at dusk.”

Artemis frowned; what had they to fear of trolls? 

“My brother tends to be goaded into conflict,” Loki ground out irritably as he passed, “and we have only just finished a treaty with the mountain trolls…”

Perhaps the All-father was wiser than she had ever anticipated. Artemis nodded her head, her attentions on her horse as she tried to slow its heavy breathing. 

“It seems you are without a beast, brother,” Thor laughed when the horses had finally settled. All eyes turned to Loki as he stood there, arms folded and glaring at the horizon, “Perhaps a gentle horse is not suited for hunting.”

“They all panicked,” Loki spat, clearly irritated that the Warriors Three chuckled at his misfortune, “but she managed to bolt before I could grab her… It might have happened to any of you.”

“And yet, we are all with horses,” Lady Sif mused as she leapt up onto her beast. “Will the Silver-Tongued prince walk back to Asgard?”

“Oh, what a sight,” Thor chuckled. “Though it would be a much needed lesson, brother, that you ought not to lose your horse.” 

Loki forced out a cold, mirthless laugh as the rest tittered. No one offered to share their horse, and as Artemis watched Thor urge his beast forward, she realized he was serious about making his younger sibling march home. Terrible. Artemis would have never made Apollo endure such humiliation in front of others… Though, in private, she would have tormented him relentlessly. 

“You can share my horse,” Artemis offered, quite sure the beast could hold both of them, “but only if you can stand to ride without a saddle.” 

“I cannot say it is my favourite thing to do,” Loki muttered as he stalked over to her, ignoring the way Fandral and Volstagg sniggered over the prospect of him riding bareback, “but it seems I do not have a choice.” 

“Oh, don’t pout,” Artemis teased, hoping to lighten his mood. “I am wonderful to ride with.”

Nomia chimed in her agreement before she raced off to catch up with Volstagg, who had become something of a surrogate father figure for the girl while she was here. It actually pleased Artemis endlessly, even if Volstagg could be a bit tiresome sometimes.

She clambered atop her horse easily, and then held out her hand to help Loki maneuver himself up. He simply stared at her outstretched hand with mild contempt, and then arched an eyebrow. 

“Really?” he demanded, “I am to ride behind you like some woman-“

“It will be much more painful for you,” she ground out, her eyes darting down to his groin, “as a man, if you are to sit on the shoulders. I am sparing you pain… You can still walk back, if you would like.”

His glare intensified, but she knew the anger was not directed at her. Finally, he accepted her help and swung himself gracefully up behind her, and Artemis soon found herself nestled between his legs and against his chest. The closeness made her cheeks threaten to pink, but she managed to push through as she urged her horse forward. They brought up the rear of the group, and would surely reached Asgard last. Artemis kept the horse moving at a steady, but fairly slow pace in order to save Loki any unnecessary pain from riding without a saddle. 

Eventually, one arm looped around her waist, and she glanced down at it, eyebrows knitting together. However, she said nothing, and assumed he placed it there for balance – that was the easiest explanation, was it not? His grip tightened at one point when her horse navigated down a slightly steeper decline in the grass, but it remained like that even after the way had flattened. 

“I think,” he murmured in her ear, “that you and I ought to hunt together… I should like to learn to do it properly without those giants stomping about.”

“I’d like that,” Artemis agreed as her head turned to face him, but then hastily resumed gazing ahead when he licked his lips. She noticed that his hand had come to rest on her leg, the thumb stroking it softly, so gently that she hadn’t even felt it before she saw it. 

For a moment, she wasn’t really sure what to do about it. Had any other man been so forward, she might have threatened to chop the offending digit off. However, with Loki, the words fell short in her throat, and she finally brought the horse to a halt, his hand remaining pressed to her leg. 

“Perhaps,” she suggested, her tone stiff as she looked at him over her shoulder, “you ought to remember who you are, and who I am?”

“I know exactly who we are,” he informed her, the hand sliding back across her figure and resting on her hip, the other hand coming up at the other side. 

“Good,” she managed to breathe, purposefully ignoring the impish grin that formed on his features. She urged her horse forward, not taking as much care with his trot, and smirked a little when she heard Loki groan softly as they bumped along. 

The remainder of the journey was in silence, though his grip on her hips did become a little harder as she rocked beneath him. To this Artemis said nothing, as no protest came to her lips even if she tried. Instead, she simply carried on as though she hadn’t noticed, breathing a sigh of relief when they neared the castle’s gates, thus forcing him to take his hands away. 

The rest of the group applauded dramatically as she rode into the stables, and Artemis couldn’t help but grin a little under the attention. Loki slid from the horse first, and then hurried over to his usual stable when a servant informed him that they had settled his mare back in. Artemis, meanwhile, smiled as Callisto opened the gate to her horse’s stable, and she nodded when Thor invited her to dine with the family that evening once she was refreshed. The stable quieted as people drifted out, no doubt tired from a day of riding. 

“My lady?”

Artemis looked up from the row of hooks on which she had hung her reins, and arched an eyebrow at Callisto. The nymph sidled across the stall, careful not to disturb the horse, and then sighed. 

“I wanted to issue a word of caution,” she murmured, “with him.”

Artemis frowned, and then folded her arms across her chest defensively. “Excuse me?”

“It’s only a word,” Callisto carried on lightly, “but you should be careful.”

“I resent the accusation,” Artemis hissed, knowing full well what the nymph had implied. Perhaps it touched a nerve because she knew there was a hint of truth behind it, but she barely let a flicker of recognition cross her face. “For that, you can finish tending to my horse.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And you won’t speak of it again,” she snapped as she stalked out of the stall. She also forced herself to ignore Loki’s eyes as they followed her from the stall nearby, and stalked back to the palace in need of a bath.


	11. Cutting down the Family Tree

Artemis hadn’t ever been particularly fond of fishing. She couldn’t see the sport in sitting around and waiting for some creature to take the bait floating somewhere in the water. However, it was apparently something of a favoured pastime for lazy warm afternoons in Asgard, and when Fandral suggested it over dinner the night before, Artemis cringed when the rest of her usual companions were quick to agree. A plan was made over roast and dark green vegetables, and they all decided to spend the following day fishing somewhere to the west of the palace. Thor instructed the servants to prepare a plentiful lunch so that they could still eat if luck was not with them, and Artemis surmised that they would make good use of the baskets if the Asgardians fished anything like they hunted. 

Four months into her engagement with Thor, and Artemis officially felt as though she was home. Yes, she definitely missed Olympus and the comforts of her ancestral domain, but there was a fairly obvious comfort around the palace now that was difficult to ignore. Her handmaidens also seemed to share her comfort in the palace, and she noticed Callisto in particular appeared more relaxed now that they had settled. For the most part, Artemis now knew how to keep herself busy if she was not with Thor, Loki, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. Her Asgardian companions, after all, had lives of their own to get on with, and her fiancé and his brother had other princely duties that did not have to involve Artemis at every turn. Although she usually ate all of her meals with Thor and Loki, and occasionally their parents, Artemis generally only saw the princes four or five days during the week and once at the week’s end. 

Privately, she saw Loki more than she did Thor, just as she saw Frigga more than she did Odin. Frigga had requested one day be set aside so that she could thoroughly prepare Artemis for the role of a monarch in Asgard, and while it sounded exciting at first, the Olympian had come to dread it with each passing week. She was forced to sit through extensive history lessons of the realm and all the nine others, Asgardian etiquette, wardrobe decisions, and when those finished, she usually had to spend the rest of the day shadowing the queen in order to see what Frigga did in her spare time. Now, she had no ill feelings toward Thor’s mother, as the woman was only trying to make the adjustment come easily when Artemis married Thor in six months’ time. However, the lessons were excruciating at the best of times, and Artemis counted down the minutes until she was free to return to her girls for a peaceful evening. 

Now, she seldom counted down to anything when she and Loki found a moment to sit with one another. Their friendship had continued to grow over the last month, and she considered herself very lucky that she got along so easily with the man who would one day be her brother-in-law. Sometimes they strolled through the gardens to talk, and other times he helped her with Echo’s painfully slow obedience lessons. He occasionally showed her a magic trick or two, which she would try to counter with her own brand of magic, and once last week she dragged him down to the Bifrost to show him more star constellations. Unfortunately, ever since Callisto made a rather vague reference to her and Loki, Artemis sometimes felt a little tense in his presence. She was in no need for dramatics in Asgard, and seeing as she was intended to marry his brother, she could not risk a scandal with him over something ridiculous. 

Whenever she did think too deeply on it, however, Artemis noticed that Loki usually took her aside for some time alone, and in those moments she saw no inappropriate actions, no unspoken intentions. Aside from his very brief indiscretion during their shared ride together a month ago, Artemis only saw comfort, laughter, and peace when they were together. Perhaps Callisto was mistaken… Surely that was the only explanation. However, even if she was mistaken, Artemis was careful not to let herself spend all of her time with Loki, as that made it difficult for her to want to spend time with Thor. 

Thor… She had developed some sort of affection for her fiancé, but it was limited romantically. Instead, Artemis noted that she mostly enjoyed the platonic companionship that had developed slowly over these past months. In fact, she usually felt incredibly uncomfortable whenever he tried to do something romantic for her, such as a surprise candlelight dinner in private or an unnecessary flower to pin in her hair. Thor, after all, seemed almost as unnerved whenever he tried to be romantic, and it was much easier to make conversation with the prince when they were doing something in a group setting. However, Artemis found that in those group settings, her intended was slightly more attentive as of late, and their conversations came easier with companions around. 

She did not dread the thought of marrying Thor as much now as she had initially, but the idea still seemed so foreign to her. There might have been six months to wait before the actual ceremony, but that felt like a lifetime to Artemis, and she still couldn’t quite picture becoming someone’s wife. She preferred not to think about it, and tried to live as she had always done – in the now. She ate rich food, danced ridiculously at palace festivities, and lounged by the private bathing pools with her handmaidens. Artemis occasionally studied in her spare time at the request of Callisto, but generally she enjoyed her time without responsibilities; it would only be a matter of time before she would have to approve palace renovations and make pointless public appearances around the city. 

However, there would be none of that today. Once a week, she and her girls met up with Thor and his boys, accompanied usually by Loki and Lady Sif, and the massive group would go on an outing to some location around the Asgardian capital. Sometimes it was out for a hike in the forest, or down the city for an afternoon of pampering by merchants. Whatever it was, they usually planned it the night before at dinner, and then met up the following morning for a day of excitement. 

However, last night, dinner was followed by a very excessive amount of drinking on behalf of almost everyone there during a card game. Even Artemis let herself go a little more than she would have liked, and recalled vaguely accepting a ride on Thor’s back up to her chambers before passing out amidst her pillows and thin blankets. 

It was a miracle that she awoke that morning feeling no aftereffects of the alcohol in her system, and a cool bath and breakfast brought to her by someone other than her handmaidens – as her girls were still passed out – followed shortly after she rose. She dressed herself, shooing the Asgardian servants out curtly when they offered to lend her a hand. Since one did not need much mobility to fish, Artemis chose a pale green dress that was fitted around the bust, tied with thick straps around her neck, and then trailed to the floor. Normally, Nomia or Callisto would have styled her hair, but she decided it was easy enough to loop the mass of straight blonde locks up into a loose ponytail. Satisfied, she asked the time of a servant lingering in the hall, and when she realized she was about to be late for the fishing trip, she slipped on a pair of brown sandals and rushed down toward the stables. 

At one point, she was stopped by a male servant of Loki’s, who handed her a fishing pole and a small box of hooks, and then wished her a pleasant trip. It wasn’t until she was actually in the courtyard, the sun glaring down on her bare shoulders, that Artemis even thought to have checked on her girls to see if they were awake. Her pace slowed as she approached the stables, and Artemis came to a complete stop when she saw no one from her party present. Frowning, she asked a woman crouched over in a flowerbed for the time again, and when the servant confirmed that it was eleven in the morning, the time they had all planned to meet, she nodded. 

A frown situated itself on her lips as she strolled through the stables, and she sighed; had the drink knocked everyone down for the day? What an unfortunate waste. She leaned her metal fishing rod against the side of her stable, and then grinned as her usual horse trotted forward to greet her, whinnying softly when she ran a hand along his snout. They had gone on many more rides together since their initial one a month prior, and she decided that she would make him hers as soon as she could. As of now, he was owned by the palace for general use, but Artemis enjoyed the feel of him far too much for him to remain a communal horse. 

She heard familiar chuckle from the nearby entrance, and she glanced back over her shoulder, eyebrow cocked slightly, and saw Loki shake his head at her. 

“Surely we cannot be the only ones who actually remembered we made plans?” he mused as he started toward her, an identical fishing pole resting neatly against his shoulder. She watched him as he set it next to hers, and then grinned pleasantly when he smiled at her. “No headaches this morning?”

“None at all,” she remarked. He always liked to tease her over the effects alcohol had on her body in the mornings that followed, and today she provided no ammunition. “And you?”

“I hardly drank,” he told her cheekily, which made her laugh at the outright lie as he disappeared into the stable next to hers. She heard him dragging gear off the wall, his mare snorting happily at his presence, but still she lingered outside of the stall. Instead, she watched the entrance and waited a few moments more to see if anyone would join them. It was well passed the designated meeting time, and she tapped her fingers against the warm wood before pushing away. 

“Perhaps I ought to check on everyone,” she commented as she passed Loki’s stall. “Maybe they’ve simply overslept.”

“Artemis, I think-“

“I should at least rouse your brother,” she chuckled as she sauntered backward toward the front gate, her hands clasped together. “He was so excited to spend the day fishing.”

“No, wait,” Loki ordered, this time a little more firmly. The tone in his voice was sharp enough to make her stop, and Artemis frowned a little as he jogged across to her. “My brother is a brute when you wake him up after drinking… I don’t want you to be subjected to that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Artemis insisted, shaking her head at him. “It’ll only take a moment.”

“Artemis,” Loki said quickly, snatching up her forearm and halting her as she tried to carry on. “I promise, it’s nothing but horrible breath and unkempt hair… It’s his own fault that he couldn’t get up on time. Besides, he’ll know where we’re going… They can always meet us once they all recover.”

She shot him a hard look, studying the tense lines in his face for a moment, but then acquiesced to his reasoning, “I suppose… Though you’ve painted a rather terrible picture of my future for me, and for that I won’t thank you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he finally released her arm, the pressure from the tips of his fingers lingering for a moment, “but you ought to be prepared for what a wretched mess my brother is after drinking.”

“Some things need not be spoiled,” Artemis teased, poking him sharply in the chest as she passed by. 

“Do you still wish to go?” she heard him ask as she stepped into her stall, eyes searching for the reins along the wall of unnecessary riding equipment. 

“Go?” 

“Go fishing,” Loki clarified as he leaned down on the door of the stall. Artemis glanced back and caught him smirking as her horse leaned in for a good sniff. “If the others are not awake, we could always postpone the occasion.”

“Well,” she sighed, rolling her eyes a little as she grasped the reins and bit, “I am dressed and ready… We might as well go. Tell a servant to inform the rest should they decide to show their faces before evening that we’ve gone.”

“Unlikely,” he remarked, and then grinned at her when she shot him a look. “Fine… I will alert someone of our departure, and then we can go.”

Artemis nodded, and when she looked back again, he was gone. Truthfully, she was perfectly happy to spend the day with Loki; the others were always so loud whenever they traveled anywhere together, and while Artemis could tolerate it for a few hours, the entire day was always exhausting. However, she was also acutely aware that this meant people would see her ride off into the wilds of Asgard alone with the brother of her fiancé, and that was never good for gossip. Artemis, nonetheless, decided against fretting over the situation; the only time gossip would really matter, she had decided, was when she was queen. When she took the throne, Frigga insinuated her slate would be wiped clean, but all manner of wrongdoings would be heavily scrutinized after. 

So, for now, let onlookers think whatever they wished. 

As she led her horse out of his stall, Artemis smiled when the beast pawed at the ground, ears forward in anticipation, and she ran a hand along the length of his muzzle and neck, brushing a bit of his mane out of the way. She took a moment or so to readjust the bit and straps along the horse’s head, and then looked back when she heard Loki return. Her eyes drifted just passed him, and in the distance she saw a figure retreat across the bright, open courtyard toward the palace. Frowning, she squinted to get a better view, and for a moment she could have sworn it was Hogun. However, the figure soon disappeared in the shadows of the main veranda, and she shook her head. 

If it had been Hogun, surely he would have joined Artemis and Loki rather than retreat back inside. It must have been have been the servant off to inform her recovering friends of her whereabouts. 

“Now,” she heard Loki start as he opened the stall for his mare, who pranced out happily to his side, “shall I carry both fishing rods, or would you prefer to carry your own?”

“I am more than capable of carrying my own,” Artemis noted as she quickly darted back to fetch her rod. She figured it would be easy to sit across her lap, and as long as they traveled at a reasonable pace, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

“Oh, I am aware of your capabilities,” Loki chuckled, suddenly very near her. He snatched up her box of hooks before she could, and then tucked them under his arm. “However, what sort of gentleman would I be if I left the fair lady to her own devices?”

“Don’t tease,” she told him, and he ducked out of the way before she could swat him again. 

Fair lady indeed! Artemis hardly looked like the future queen of Asgard in her garments today, and Callisto was bound to scold her for not wearing some sort of finery to indicate her status. Why should one wear finery to fish? She was sure to get in more trouble if she lost a ring or necklace at the bottom of some dark blue lake. 

Artemis noticed Loki had tucked her box of fishing hooks into the bag hanging from his saddle, which she assumed also housed their lunch. Fishing was a lazy form of hunting, and Artemis disliked it because she had almost no control over whether or not she caught anything. So, while she might have considered it bad luck to bring a packed lunch on a regular hunt, this seemed quite reasonable. 

Once they were both settled and ready, Artemis urged her horse to follow Loki’s mare through the courtyard, grinning at the sound of hooves against stone. A plethora of servants darted out of the way as they passed, and neither Loki nor Artemis acknowledged the duo of guards who opened the front gate of the royal palace for them. 

Just as she passed through, she heard a familiar howl sound from behind, and she looked over her shoulder to spy Echo struggling to get by a guard. The hound was still too young to run with the horses, but Artemis decided it might be time to take her outside of the castle walls sometime soon. She may not have been the lean hunting dog Artemis was accustomed to, but she did seem to have quite the nose on her. 

Once they were free from the palace walls, Loki immediately set westward. In the distance, Artemis could see lush grasses and small rolling hills; though it was clear there were no dark forests or mountains for them to tackle today. No, today the landscape would remain moderate, and their activity subpar compared with any other trip she might have taken in the past. Even on Earth, she rarely fished, and yet here it seemed venerated by everyone. Perhaps they all enjoyed it because it lacked skill? It hardly took any real effort at all to put a piece of bait on a hook and let some silly fish grab an unfortunate bite out of it. Tracking footsteps on dry ground or detecting the waft of the wind – those were real skills for real hunters. 

She let Loki take the lead for the majority of the ride, as she had no idea where they were going, and was content to enjoy the warm breeze. Her horse seemed equally excited to be out of his stall, prancing and leaping on occasion when she was not firm enough to direct him. The western plains of Asgard were lovely, albeit a little too warm, and Artemis decided that even if fishing was not of particular interest to her, she could still enjoy the countryside. It was a blessing, sometimes, to escape the sea of marble and stone that encompassed most of her daily life. 

They rode for the better part of an hour, and Artemis eventually heard the stream before she saw it. After urging her horse over one last small hill, she spotted a wide, fresh stream barreling through the plain, cutting it in half out of nowhere. It was a pale blue, a sharp contrast to the lakes surrounding the palace, and she smiled softly at its familiarity. It seemed fairly shallow, and it extended further south into a thin treeline nearby. Pleased with the location, Artemis quickly dismounted and set her fishing rod aside, and then began removing her horse’s riding gear. She preferred the beast to be free whenever they were not riding, and seeing as he had yet to run from her, she did not see the harm in it. Loki slid from his mare nearby, and then stretched upward, his limbs cracking noisily enough to make her chuckle. 

“Have you fished before?” Loki inquired as he removed his horse’s saddle. The mare trotted off to join Artemis’s beast at a lush patch of grace, and Artemis arched an eyebrow at him. 

“I may not look it, but I’m quite old,” she noted as she snatched up her fishing pole. “I’ve done most things in my lifetime.”

“I think it was a fair question considering you have an affinity for land, not water.”

“You’re full of cheek today, aren’t you?” she laughed as she followed him toward the water’s edge.

“I think I’m simply in a good mood,” he admitted softly when she came to his side. “Aren’t you?”

His gaze met hers when she glanced aside at him, and Artemis licked her lips before offering an earnest response, “I am.”

“Good.”

She saw to her rod as he produced two boxes, one containing hooks and the other with their bait, and she proceeded to attach a rather hefty hook to the end of her nearly sheer fishing line. With hers sorted, Loki saw to his own pole, which was not quite as identical to hers as she initially thought; it was much thicker, and she noticed the head could be removed for a possible dual function. 

Artemis crouched down next to the bait box, and then removed a rather slimy, squirming worm. Grimacing at it clutched between her fingers, she quickly stabbed it with her hook, and then tossed the line out into the stream. She had already seen a bit of movement upstream: splashes that she assumed indicated the movement of their game. Hopefully, if they lingered near the deeper, slightly calmer portion of the stream, they might be able to catch something before they returned to the city. 

And so, the waiting began. After stabbing the bottom of her metal pole into the soft earth of the riverbed, Artemis opted to drag Loki’s discarded saddle over so that she could lean against it. It would be easier to endure the long hours that fishing promised if she had something to sit against. So, with her back now supported by the robust saddle, Artemis hiked her dress up to her knees and yanked her fishing rod out of the ground, allowing it to rest lightly between her hands as she stared at the water. Her gaze was finally broken when Loki’s baited hook landed noisily in the water near hers, and she shot him a bit of a look.

“Are you trying to steal my fish?” Artemis inquired as he took a seat next to her, his back straight and shoulders somehow relaxed as he smiled. “I think you’re too close.”

“A little friendly competition never hurt anyone,” he remarked coolly, which made her roll her eyes. “Are you threatened?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “There is no sport in fishing.”

“Of course there is,” Loki countered quickly. “It is all about choosing the right spot, the right bait, the right hook… Knowing when you ought to let them squirm, or when you should get them out.”

“It still seems like a lazy sport to me,” she told him, which earned her a smirk. “After all, we do nothing but sit and wait.”

“Can’t you see why Volstagg was so excited?”

Artemis grinned and readjusted herself against the saddle, the warm leather making her skin stick it as she shifted. If it became much hotter than this, she contemplated taking a quick dip in the stream, regardless of its depth. She tilted her head back, letting it loll against her shoulders as the sunlight warmed her face. 

“My father used to take us fishing when we were boys,” Loki said suddenly, and her eyes snapped open at the confession. “Thor was never patient enough for it, but he always caught more than I did.”

“Somehow that fails to surprise me,” Artemis muttered as she shooed a winged insect away from her bare knee. “Do you still fish with your father?” 

“No, we haven’t for quite some time now,” he admitted with a shrug. “Well, he hasn’t with me, anyway.”

Artemis found it difficult to picture Odin and Thor alone like this, or out on a boat in deeper waters to waste away their time on such a pointless pursuit. However, she kept her opinion to herself. Instead, she opted to change the subject. 

“The only one who might ever take me fishing is my uncle,” she insisted, tugging at her rod to shift the hook’s location a little. “Poseidon would have grown frustrated with my disliking for it, I think.”

“Do you dislike this?”

“No, no, not this,” she clarified quickly, sensing the discomfort in his tone without seeing it anywhere else. “I like this… you and I in peace and quiet. However, you know my opinion on fishing. It was never a godly pursuit on Olympus.”

“I shall have to show you otherwise,” Loki told her, and she smiled at his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Yes, perhaps it will grow on me.”

The pair settled into a comfortable silence shortly after, and Artemis quickly glanced over her shoulder to check on the horses. Just as they had been perhaps ten minutes ago, they remained huddled over a vibrant green patch of grass, the mare’s tail flicking at the hovering flies every so often. Satisfied that they were not about to wander, Artemis shifted down enough so that she could rest her head against the saddle, hair flopped over the side, and then threw an arm over her eyes to block out the sun. She sighed happily, a relaxed smile on her lips, but flinched when she felt Loki swat at her knee. 

“Sorry,” he remarked when she shot him a look, “but you had a fly…”

Artemis said nothing, and instead set her arm back across her forehead. However, she realized that with her dress hitched up to her knees, and now a little above them, she was putting on quite the display for her male company. Normally, Artemis would have never thought of such trivial things on a hunt with her women; even with Orion present, she was never one for dignity. Given that it was Loki next to her, however, she thought she ought to at least readjust herself, and quickly ensured that there was a clump of fabric keeping him from seeing directly up her dress.

With that sorted, she settled back again, her fishing pole resting lightly in her free hand, and she almost felt the urge to sleep under the Asgardian sun. If there had ever been a time to nap, it would have been now. 

They wasted away two hours like this, with Artemis readjusting herself whenever she felt too hot or uncomfortable against Loki’s saddle. There was the occasion snippet of conversation, but she never felt as though it was required in order to enjoy his company. 

Instead, Artemis found that she relished glancing at her companion every so often in order to see the look of calm on his features. There was always a tension surrounding Loki, particularly when they were in the company of the other Asgardians, and she liked seeing him at ease. There was no chance for a competition out here with Thor, no jests made on Loki’s behalf; she may have never commented on them, but she was fully aware of the dynamics of the group. If no one had a go at Volstagg, Loki was the next easy target. Now, he was hardly a passive target, but Artemis noticed there were far more moments that showed Loki in an embarrassing light than his brother. 

Eventually, Artemis leaned forward and untied her sandals in order to wiggle her toes in the grass. Much to her surprise, Loki did the same, and even rolled his black trousers up to his knees. 

This was true comfort.

Artemis shielded her eyes jokingly, crying out when she saw his legs. 

“My eyes,” she whined. “The glare is too much… Cover them back up!”

“Just you wait,” Loki warned, giving his line a bit of a tug as she laughed. “You won’t always be this bronze goddess… Soon you’ll be as pasty as all us Asgardians.”

“Oh, the horror,” she groaned dramatically, which earned her a sharp poke in the ribs. “I’ll never accept it… I’ll sit outside every day.”

“Even in the winter?”

“Oh, especially in the winter,” she mused, perking a little when she felt a tug at her line. “After all, that’s when it will really matter to be coloured… I think I’ve got a bite.”

“I must have absolutely no luck at this,” Loki grumbled as she reeled her line up. However, Artemis groaned she saw that her bait had been stolen, but no fish remained on the hook. “But then again…”

“Hush,” she snapped. She brought her line back in and stared at the bait box, and then placed a hand on her grumbling stomach. “Which pocket has the lunches?”

“The lunches?”

“Yes, Thor asked the servants to make us provisions,” Artemis insisted as she set her fishing rod down and turned back to his saddle. “I’m starting to get hungry, and this is a fruitless venture…”

“I was never given any packed lunches… I thought you might have them,” Loki told her as he too turned back to face the saddle. Artemis arched an eyebrow. 

“And where exactly would I be hiding the food?” she asked as she gestured back to her horse, “Up my dress?”

“All right, so we’ve deduced neither of us brought this supposed packed lunch,” Loki said pointedly. “That leaves us with two options, and I shall let the lady decide.”

“Go on then.”

“We could ride back,” he started, ticking off each option with a finger, “and have the kitchens whip something up for us, or I could catch us something.”

Artemis arched an eyebrow, “Catch us something? We’ve been out here for two hours, and we’ve caught nothing.”

“Yes, but we’ve been passively fishing, haven’t we?” he countered as he leaned forward and reached into a saddle bag, his arm grazing her in the process. He then produced a rather sizable trident head, a three-pronged gold attachment that appeared to screw on to the tip of his fishing rod. “Perhaps I could try some active fishing…”

“Can you actually catch anything with that?” she inquired, leaning forward and snatching the piece from him to examine. “Why haven’t we been using this? This would actually make fishing a real hunt…”

“Because we came out to relax, not compete needlessly,” he insisted as he unscrewed the top of his rod and removed the nearly sheer lining. “Does this mean you want to stay?”

Artemis stared at the trident head in for a moment, and then smirked before setting it back in his extended hand. She nodded toward the small treeline across the stream, “I’ll fetch some wood and rocks. If you find something to eat, we’ll cook it.”

Loki nodded in agreement, and with that they were off. Artemis’s horse followed her to the edge of the stream, but remained there as she crossed in the shallower portion without a thought for her dress. The thin, short trees were sparsely littered across the plain, as though someone had haphazardly planted them and then left. 

There was very little underbrush for her to pick form, but Artemis eventually managed to gather up enough to get them started. She had noticed a few patches of dry grasses that might also be of us, and planned to gather them should the need arise. There were numerous rocks in the stream that would prove useful in constructing her pit, and Artemis’s mind raced at her prospects. Finally, something enjoyable aside from Loki’s company. 

When she resurfaced out from the small cluster of young trees, she spotted Loki wading through deeper water upstream, the new trident spear raised when he finally stopped. Artemis lingered for a moment, and then watched curiously as he stabbed the weapon into the water. Seconds passed, and he dragged out a squirming fish punctured at the end. He then tossed it on the nearby bank, and glanced in her direction long enough to catch her gaze. She grinned, and then nodded appreciatively down at the discarded fish. He shrugged nonchalantly, and Artemis quickly crossed the stream, grinning up at her awaiting horse. 

After giving his nose a quick pat, she dropped her sticks and started to haul stones in from the waterbed. First she found smaller ones to craft an acceptable pit, and she then proceeded to arrange her foraged bits of wood as she might have any other time she started a fire. However, just as she started having a go at getting a flame started, she heard footsteps signalling Loki’s approach, and glanced back over her hunched shoulders at him. He had four fish in hand, all sizeable and a bright white, and she grinned. 

“Well, apparently there is sport in this after all,” she commented as he set them down. “That certainly didn’t take long.”

“I suppose I do have some luck when it counts,” he chuckled. “Here, move away…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and eased her back from the makeshift fire pit, and then waved a hand over it. Moments later, a spark erupted somewhere inside, and she hastily began adding twigs and bits of dried grass to coax it along. 

“Now, I do believe I packed a knife somewhere…”

She glanced up as she heard Loki mutter to himself, and her eyes followed him across to the saddle where he rummaged about in the bags again. Moments later, he produced a pair of knives, and then looked back at her. 

“Does the lady wish for me to gut her fish?”

“I can gut a fish,” she insisted, holding out her hand for the knife. She snatched it up when Loki held it out to her, and then quickly built up a makeshift cooking stone oven over the fire. It would take some time to heat, and it could have been flatter and thinner, but this was the best she could do. 

“You know,” Loki started as she dragged her two fish toward her. She sat cross-legged in front of him, a hint of sweat on her forehead from all the work. “You really are the most extraordinary woman.”

Artemis laughed warmly at the thought, and then ran her knife counter to the scale growth along the fish’s body, shedding off some of the unpalatable parts in the process, “Hardly.”

“No, no, you are,” he continued, mimicking her as they cleaned their fish. “My brother has no idea how fortunate he is.”

“Because I can gut my own fish?”

“Because you want to.”

Artemis scoffed noisily, and then proceeded to slice up her fish based on her basic knowledge of their anatomy. This certainly wasn’t the first time she had gutted an animal in her recent history, but it had been quite some time since she did it with anything this small. However, while she may have butchered the first one a little, her second fish was nearly pristine when she finished with it. She smoothed the loose bits of grass off it, and then gathered up the pile of meat she and Loki had accumulated between them. She then placed it strategically on the warm rock, and proceeded to add a few more twigs to their small fire. Pleased with the sizzle the followed, Artemis settled back and watched her meat intently.

It was then that she noticed the horses had moved farther away from the pair, clearly not impressed with the prospect of a fire. Loki had settled directly across from her now, his eyes cast down at the flames, and it wasn’t until she had flipped all eight strips of meat that she heard him speak again. 

“Is this what it’s like all the time?” he asked, and she raised her eyebrows, “To live away from civilization? To survive on the hunt?”

“Sometimes,” she told him earnestly. “Usually I would have a large group of women doing this for me, the cooking… We hunt, they cook, we dine.”

“It seems… peaceful.”

“Sometimes,” Artemis repeated with a laugh, “but it isn’t always this easy. Besides, if we find no game, it is easy to procure something else.”

“But you lived in the wilderness for so long,” he carried on. “I’m starting to see why you appreciate it.”

“It’s a different life… for a different time,” Artemis managed. Her lips parted to speak once more, but the words fell short. Instead, she repositioned a somewhat awkward rock nearby, one that seemed clean enough to house their cooked fish. “It certainly isn’t the life of a queen.”

Their eyes met across the pit, and Loki merely blinked at her in response. She cleared her throat and winced when her fingers touched the warm fish. After deciding that they would do, for now, she quickly moved them from one stone to another, swatting his hand away when he tried to reach for one. 

“Wait until they cool a little,” she warned as she moved the last of the meat. “You’ll burn your throat.”

“Perhaps this is the life of a queen,” Loki remarked suddenly after a moment or so, “just not that of an Asgardian one.”

“Show me that kingdom,” Artemis chuckled weakly, “and perhaps I can drag your brother there.”

He fell silent at the thought, and Artemis stared down at the cooked fish. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something suddenly felt off. However, rather than address it, she broke off a piece of the white flesh and brought it to her lips, smelling it before shoving it in. It could have done with some seasoning, which a handmaiden would always have on hand, but it definitely wasn’t poor tasting. 

“Could use some salt,” Loki said thoughtfully, and Artemis grinned. 

“Yes, let me conjure that right up for you, my lord,” she droned as he stuffed a rather large piece in his mouth. “Anything else today, sire?”

“Perhaps some nice wine, candles,” Loki mused, and then laughed loudly when Artemis flicked a piece of bone at him. “It was only a thought!”

Many things begin as thoughts. She had half the mind to tell him that, but she thought better of it. Instead, she merely smiled and proceeded to eat her fill of their thrown-together lunch. By now, the bottom half of her dress had dried in the open heat, and it started to feel crunchy against her legs. She stood and shook it out as Loki finished his fish, and then stretched upward, raising the tips of her fingers up to the glorious blue above her. 

“Does it get much hotter than this?” Artemis asked when she finally turned her gaze back to Loki, who appeared to have been watching her. 

“Sometimes,” he replied, “but the palace is always cool.”

“A shame it does not extend out here,” she sighed as she wiped some sweat from the nape of her neck. She spun to face the stream, and without hesitation strolled right into it. Just as before, the water soaked through the thin skirt of her dress. She waded out a little deeper, letting the stream rise to her knees, and then scooped a cupful up to splash on her face. 

“Better?”

She smiled at Loki, who stood dangerously close to the edge of the stream, hands clasped behind his back, an eyebrow raised. 

“Immeasurably so,” she told him. “Why don’t you join me? You must roast in that fabric.”

Although his trousers had been rolled up to his knees, the rest of his body was still covered in the usual hard, black material that she had grown accustomed to seeing him in. He must be burning beneath it… 

“I think I’ve been wet enough for one day,” he said in return, shaking his head at her as she waded a little closer. “You can enjoy it for the both of us.”

“Poor sport,” she cooed. It was then that a devilish smile came to her lips, and before he could warn her otherwise, she reached down and flung her arms at him through the water, bringing forth a wonderful splash. The cool water pummeled him shortly after, and his eyes narrowed, arms outstretched before he attempted to wipe himself down. 

“Do it again and see what happens,” he said sharply when she leaned down again, and her smile grew. 

“Oh, so intimidating, Asgardian,” Artemis giggled, and then proceeded to drench him once again. She emitted a small shriek when he lunged forward, dashing into the stream without a care for the wet now, and Artemis raced away from him. Her dress was a little cumbersome in the water, but she managed to scuttle out on the other side before he snatched her. 

From there, she raced toward the treeline, Loki in hot pursuit, and darted in amongst the thin trees. Their leaves provided a much needed reprieve from the sun, and she laughed when she heard Loki stumble into one when she ducked out of the way. There weren’t many places for her to hide, but as the footsteps became silent behind her, she realized she may not have to.

Artemis turned around, chest heaving, and frowned when she saw Loki had vanished. Perhaps this was when the real hunt started? She stood very still for a moment, trying to detect any sort of sound around her, but she heard nothing aside from the breeze in the leaves and the bubbling stream nearby. Suddenly, his figure appeared around a tree to her left, and Artemis immediately darted to the right soundlessly. However, when an arm snaked out from behind a nearby tree and wrapped around her, she let out a surprised squeak and Loki dragged her into his chest. Before she could protest, he scooped her up, an arm under her knees and back, and then grinned victoriously. 

“How did you…” She trailed off when she glanced back at the first Loki she saw, and then huffed a slightly annoyed sigh at him when that version disappeared. She poked his chest sharply as he began to walk. “That isn’t fair… You can’t use magic.”

“Well, I hardly had a hope to find you once you disappeared into the trees,” he insisted as he marched along, readjusting his grip on her as she crooked one arm loosely around his neck. “I think I was perfectly justified.”

“And now what do you plan to do to me now that you’ve caught me?” she asked when they left the treeline, the sunlight making her squint a little. 

“I think it’s only fair to return the favour, you see,” Loki told her. “After all, you have thoroughly soaked me…”

“But I acted with good intentions,” she argued, shooting a wary eye toward the approaching stream, “while you have malicious intent. This isn’t fair.”

“Oh, no, it most certainly isn’t,” Loki chuckled, “but I’m going to try to enjoy it anyway.”

Artemis flailed out just as he approached the riverbed, and she managed to dislodge herself from his grip. She found her footing quickly, but before she could dart away again, he caught her by her elbow and dragged her into the stream. He chuckled when she shoved against him, and then winced when he lost his foot and tumbled backward, dragging Artemis down in the process. They were both fairly lucky to be in the deeper portion of the stream, or it would have hurt to plummet down against the rocky bed beneath. She managed to keep her hair dry, but everything from the neck down was drenched. 

“Are you happy now?” she laughed when Loki managed to resurface, his hair stuck to his face as he gasped for air. She pushed against his chest playfully, easing herself toward him through the water, “You’ve soiled both of our outfits in your lust for revenge.”

Artemis went to shove him again, but this time he snatched up both of her wrists in his large hands and hauled her forward, her body sliding easily over his as he drew her into a kiss. Her eyes widened when his lips touched hers, hands clutched so tightly around her wrists that she actually felt a twinge of pain. However, she was too shocked to do anything but stay put, her lips pressed firmly to his. He broke the kiss first, pulling his head away and loosening his grip. Although she should have gotten up right then and there, Artemis lingered, her legs nestled on either side of his hips, her hands falling limply to his shoulders. 

Loki swallowed noticeably, and when she hesitated to move, he leaned up and kissed her again. For the briefest of moments, she let herself kiss him back, her hands snaking up to cup his face, her stomach knotting pleasurably when he nipped at her lower lip. However, it was when he gently placed his hand at the back of her head that she remembered herself, remembered the ring on her finger – Thor’s ring. 

“No,” she said sharply as she pushed him back, his hand falling from her hair. “No, no…”

He simply stared at her as she stood, and then hurried out of the stream, her dress dragging down around her. She wrung the fabric out over their small fire, and then whistled for her horse, who whinnied in response. She could hear Loki climb out of the stream behind her, but she couldn’t turn back to face him. 

What had she done? Artemis had never let a man steal a kiss from her before – she never permitted someone to take something like that from her. So, if she hadn’t lashed out or struggled against him, it must have meant she went willingly. Horrified with her actions, she quickly slipped on her sandals, eyes averted from her companion.

“We should go back,” she told him stiffly as her horse approached. 

“Artemis-“

“Make sure the fire is out.”

“I’m sorry.”

She stilled when she heard him say it, his voice quiet behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to face him. Instead, she busied herself with gearing up her horse again.

“It’s fine,” she told Loki weakly when he passed her. “We won’t speak of it to anyone.”

“Of course.”

When she finally forced herself to look back at him, he had already turned away to saddle up his mare, and they did not look at one another until they returned to Asgard in the late afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back, this was my favourite chapter of the entire story to write. I'm not sure why, but... it was a blast and a half.


	12. Faulty Hearts

Artemis forced her gaze onto Frigga, smiling and nodding as the woman regaled the small table with an exploit from her day. It was a terribly difficult task, considering Loki sat directly across from her and saw fit to steal glances at when he thought no one was looking. She could feel every last one of them, and refused to reciprocate. Unfortunately, she had arrived last at the small family dinner that evening, and with Odin at the head of the table, Thor at his right and Frigga at his left, Artemis had no other choice but to sit across from the darker of the two princes. No one seemed to notice the tension between them, but she compensated for her discomfort by speaking far more than she would have any other night; perhaps someone may catch that. 

Only a day had passed since she let Loki kiss her, which meant it was still far too soon to make direct eye contact with him. She wasn’t some blushing maiden who would have been perturbed by his presence, but she felt awful for letting things carry on. Perhaps the most frustrating part of the whole situation was that she felt no rage. Well, no, she did feel anger, but it was not at the fact that Loki had kissed her initially. Instead, Artemis was angry at herself for not being irate at his behaviour. She had always been a chaste woman, and had only entertained one lover in her entire immortal lifetime; it was out of her character to kiss a man for the sake of kissing him, and yet she had done it. 

She set her hands in her lap when a servant appeared at her side to collect her empty plate, and then licked her lips and smiled weakly when Thor turned to her. Behind him, Odin had already pushed himself away from the table, and the end of Frigga’s story signalled the end of the family dinner – thankfully. The king and queen excused themselves, and Artemis’s gaze flicked passed Thor briefly as she watched the pair stroll out of the dining hall arm in arm. When they left through the large arched doorway, she spied Callisto lurking on the other side, fidgeting with her dress as she sought out Artemis. 

The handmaiden had been by her side all day, clearly aware that something was amiss beneath Artemis’s false smile. The others hadn’t known her long enough to see through her façade, and although it irked her to be so easily read by a nymph, she was grateful for Callisto’s presence. 

“Would you be interested in taking dessert in the gardens?” Thor inquired, rousing her from her staring sharply enough to bring a bit of colour to her cheeks. 

Artemis blinked a few times, and forced herself to give her intended more attention than she normally would; the alternative was to look at Loki, and that was something she had yet to do. She cleared her throat and touched a hand to his wrist. 

“I’ve actually promised Callisto that we would go the pools tonight,” Artemis lied easily. On cue, her handmaiden stepped into the dining hall, though Artemis was fairly sure she hadn’t the slightest idea why she ought to make herself known. She nodded back, and Thor craned his head to get a glimpse of her. 

“No matter,” he chuckled. “More dessert for me.”

“I am starting to suspect that was what you wanted all along,” she laughed, shooting him a slightly narrowed look when he grinned. She then rose and slid out from behind the bench, trying her best to ignore the way Loki’s eyes followed her as she did, his hands knotted together on the table, expression bleak. “Good evening, my lords.”

“My lady,” Thor murmured, clutching her hand to his lips as she passed. Artemis smiled down at him, holding his eyes with hers for fear of glancing at his brother, and then hurried across the hall. Callisto met her half-way, clearly aware of her silent distress, and they linked arms as they departed. 

They carried on in silence until they were in the main courtyard of the palace, Callisto simply following Artemis wherever she saw fit. They passed servants and guards, none of whom bothered to stop her or ask where she was going, and only when they were approaching the eastern gate did she speak again. 

“We’re going to the pools.”

“I assumed as much,” Callisto offered kindly. Their march slowed once they were free from the prying eyes of the palace guard, and Artemis let out a puff of air. The sun had recently set, but it left a warm orange glow over the expansive city skyline. The pair had to walk along a rocky path until they reached the entrance of the caves, and the torches lit themselves automatically as soon as they crossed the threshold. 

She had always enjoyed spending time with all of her handmaidens, but seeing as Callisto had been with her the longest, there were times when only she could understand Artemis’s most basic emotions. Artemis certainly didn’t want Nomia seeing her like this, frazzled over some unspeakable thing, and Aora wouldn’t have even known what to say. No, Callisto was the one she wanted with her, and she squeezed the nymph’s arm reassuringly as they moved through the well-lit tunnel of the glorious cave. 

It reminded her much of the palace itself, with its walls of marble so exquisitely polished that the cavern hardly seemed as old as Asgard, and yet it had been there since the realm formed. There was the occasional statue, much like the baths of old Greece, and at that moment Artemis realized why she felt so comfortable down in the pools. There was a welcome sense of familiarity here when she was surrounded by trickling water, lavish pools, and pristine dark marble. There was one pool much further in that had an opening in the roof of the cave to allow for moonlight to trickle in on clear nights, and that one was by far Artemis’s favourite. However, she was in no mood to wander that far into the cave tonight, and opted to stop at the first pool. 

“Are you all right?” 

Artemis pursed her lips as she slipped out of her sandals, tossing them aside as the exquisitely clear water rippled before her. A constant stream trickled from an opening in the ceiling, and the torches were bright enough to illuminate the pool’s marbled depths. She heard Callisto call her name, but she continued to ignore the nymph as she slid her dark green dress over her head, casting it to the ground next to her shoes as she approached the water. 

“Has he done something?”

She paused at the stone steps, poking her toe in to test the water, and then looked back over her shoulder at her companion, “No… He’s been fine lately.”

“Has _he_ done something?”

The emphasis shifted in the woman’s voice quite noticeably, and Artemis stiffened at the unsaid accusation. She turned back to the pool and took two steps in, the water up to her knees. “No.”

“My lady, you can talk to me about these things,” Callisto insisted, and Artemis heard her take a few steps forward. 

However, rather than address her in return, Artemis dove headlong into the water, soaking her naked frame in its pleasant coolness. The night air was still thick with the heat of the day, and even in the caves it seemed to follow her. Just as Loki had said, the palace was kept temperate, but she felt strange living in an artificial temperature, and much preferred to spend her time outside, even if the weather made it somewhat difficult. 

Her head broke the surface sometime later, and when she stood, the water stopped just below her shoulders. She smoothed her hair down atop her head, and then eased herself toward the thin stream raining down from the ceiling. It seemed Callisto had given up on her quest for information, and when Artemis looked back, she saw that the nymph had opted to settle on the edge of the pool instead, her bare feet making circles in the water. 

It wasn’t as though she did not trust Callisto with sensitive information. In fact, the nymph was the first person she told about Orion, aside from Apollo. However, this was a different time in Artemis’s life, and it was most certainly a different situation. Should anyone find out that she had willingly kissed the brother of her intended, the marriage could be called off, and her father would be irate at the loss of an important ally. It would be an embarrassment to Thor and the name they had made for themselves amongst the people, and while Artemis cared less about that, she was in no need for a mass public scandal before fleeing in shame. She would be branded a whore, no doubt, and it would haunt her. No, the less anyone knew of her fleeting dalliance, the better. 

Perhaps one day she would tell Callisto, and she would certainly tell Apollo should they ever see one another again. For now, however, it seemed easiest to keep everything private. Loki would undoubtedly do the same, as he had great affection for his older brother, and perhaps the whole incident could melt away as though it had never happened. 

“No, my lady is indecent!” Artemis heard Callisto snap, her voice sharp as it reverberated off the walls of the cave. “You must leave.”

Although, perhaps that was wishful thinking… Artemis turned back, a hand still in the ceiling’s downpour, and sighed when she saw Loki approach. Any other woman would scurry to the side to hide her naked shame, but Artemis drifted toward the wall in order to address the situation before Callisto lost her head. Nakedness had never been something to be ashamed of; though her body was not something she put on display for men all that often. No, spies and lurkers were usually turned into some terrible animal should they have the unfortunate luck of being caught by Artemis during her bath. 

Loki stopped at an appropriate distance from the pool, his expression somber and his hands clasped behind his back. Callisto was on her feet, hands in fists, and her dislike for the Asgardian prince suddenly so very apparent that Artemis wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. She blinked up at the duo, and then rested her arms on the cool marble ledge of the pool. 

“I only wish to talk,” he insisted stiffly, and Artemis glanced at her handmaiden when she scoffed. 

“Perhaps you could find a more appropriate time to do so,” Callisto ordered. “You may call upon my lady anytime you wish when we are in the palace.”

“Leave us, Callisto,” Artemis said softly, and she nodded when the nymph looked back at her, eyebrows up. She seemed hesitant, and after a moment or so of internal debate, Artemis watched her handmaiden march stiffly down the cave’s corridor, until she finally disappeared from sight. 

Once they were alone, they stared at one another for a moment, until Loki broke eye contact first and took a few steps toward her crumpled dress. He scooped it up in one swift movement, and then stood at the pool’s stone steps, his arm outstretched for her to take the garment. Artemis quirked an eyebrow at him, and he quickly looked away, his head turned toward the tunnel behind them. She sighed, and then eased her way through the water, which suddenly felt thick and weighty, and then stepped up onto one of the stairs. Artemis stood there for a moment, her eyes on Loki as he stared pointedly in the other direction, and simply let the water trickle from her body. 

She hadn’t brought anything to dry off with, as she intended to simply lay beneath the stars with Callisto standing guard until the water disappeared. Loki, unfortunately, had thrown yet another wrench into her carefully crafted plans. 

Finally, she accepted the material bundle from him, holding it out in front of her to assess the state of it before sliding it on over her head. When she glanced up again, she saw that Loki had been studying her beneath downcast eyes. Artemis strode by him with a huff, her shoulders back and eyes forward as she exited the pool noisily. Her dress clung to her body, the loose fabric sticking to the liquid that saturated her skin.

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes,” she cried, running a hand through her damp hair as she glared back at him. “Yes, I’m furious with you!”

He flinched away from her words as though she had struck him, and Artemis began to wring the water from her dress, ignoring the way he stared at her. 

“Why?”

“Why?” she spat as she threw the lengthy skirt of her dress down, eyes narrowing at him. “Because you make it impossible for me to… to do anything here!”

“I don’t understand,” he told her, and Artemis moved back as he came toward her. She tried to find some hint of a jest in his eyes, something in his body language that indicated a maliciousness that most men developed when they blatantly lied, but she saw nothing but genuine confusion. “I’m not trying to make your life difficult-“

“I know,” she insisted, her tone exasperated. “I know you aren’t… but you’ve gone and… done what you did.”

“And you reciprocated in kind,” Loki argued, crossing the space between them in two large strides and snatching her wrist as she turned to walk away. Artemis glared up at him sharply, and then pulled her arm back. “I may have kissed you—” Artemis cringed when he finally said it. “—but you returned it all the same. You cannot be angry with me for something you did willingly.”

“That’s not why I’m angry with you,” she hissed. She leaned in, her voice hushed, and poked him accusingly in the chest. “Don’t you know why I’m here? I’m here to marry your brother.”

“I am aware of your purpose—"

“And I am trying desperately to feel something for him,” Artemis continued, her voice faltering for the briefest of moments. “I am working so hard so that when I marry him, I know that I will have a happy, loving future, but you’ve ruined that! I haven’t even kissed him yet, but I have kissed you, and every time I look at him, I think of you!” She slapped his hand away when he reached for her again. “That is why I am livid with you!”

“I know you feel something for me,” he said softly when she turned her back to him. “I did nothing to force that on you… I think your anger is misdirected.”

She stiffened when she felt him fiddle with her hair, and then turned back to push him away, her voice echoing through the cave as she shouted at him. “My anger is perfectly acceptable!”

“I’m not going to stop,” Loki told her as she shoved him again. She continued to push him, and he did nothing to deflect her hands. “You are the best thing that has ever walked into my home, and he will never appreciate you for who you are-“

“I am aware of my fate,” Artemis snapped, her cheeks aflame. “Why do you even bother? Surely there is easier game out there to ensnare.”

He swallowed noticeably, and then shook his head, “You know exactly why I bother.”

Her hands trembled as she strode up to him, her head tilted back as she laughed. “Is this love, my lord? I have turned men into beasts for lesser transgressions.”

“Do it,” he whispered tightly, and Artemis’s breath caught in her throat when he clutched at her suddenly, his thumb pressed beneath her chin to keep her head tilted up in order to hold his gaze. The tips of his fingers pressed firmly into the flesh on the back of her neck, and she licked her lips, her breathing now uneven. “Do it and then maybe I will feel some reprieve from your spite.” 

She reached up to yank his hand away, but when her fingers wriggled beneath his hand, she found they merely clung to him, and at that very moment he kissed her. It lacked the tentativeness she experienced in the stream, and Artemis let out a weak moan of protest when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her impossibly close to him. Once again, she felt no innate desire to shove him off, no repulsion that usually followed a man’s attempt to take her in an intimate fashion. Instead, her arm slid up around his neck, her lips in tandem with his. She even parted them when he nipped at her lower lip, her tongue hesitantly meeting his as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

If she let herself go, Artemis realized she could kiss him forever. He was the perfect height for her, and was just forceful enough to keep her hackles down. However, it was she who realized precisely what they were doing first, but when she tried to pull away, he followed her desperately, a muffled protest sounding from his throat. His eagerness stirred something in her, and Artemis was forced to knot her fingers in his hair and tug back sharply in order to finally break the kiss. 

“Did you listen to nothing I said?” she whispered, wrenching his hair between her fingers until he released her. 

“I could ask you the same question,” Loki remarked, a tremor in his voice as his gaze drifted between her eyes and her lips. “Artemis…”

She shook her head and stepped away from him, but he matched her step for step until she felt the cool marble wall against her wet back. He trailed a finger down her cheek while her arms hung limply at her side. Rather than feeling as though he was dominating her, overpowering her space, Artemis felt nothing but an earnest desire for closeness radiating from the man, and she hated the way her body longed to reciprocate. 

How long had she suppressed these feelings? Had they been there all along? 

She bit her lip when he swooped down once more, but rather than kiss her, he simply pressed his forehead to hers. Artemis closed her eyes when he drifted to the side, his lips grazing her temple as a hand tentatively touched her waist. 

“Forgive me,” he murmured against her skin. “Please…”

She glanced down at his hand, and then gathered up what little resistance she had and pushed him away one last time. It was difficult to ignore the look of shock in his eyes, the brief flicker of pain, but somehow she managed to do so with dignity. 

“No.”

Halfway across the hall, Artemis glanced back at him, and saw that he kept his back to her, a hand against the wall and head bowed.


	13. True Desires

“No, no, I think it will be different this time,” Nomia protested as they marched through the palace corridors, surrounded by marble and curious eyes. “I told Volstagg that if he wants to come, he must learn to be very quiet, or it will be a pointless hunt!”

“Just because you tell him to be quiet doesn’t make it so,” Aora sighed from the rear of the group. 

“It does make it so!”

Artemis rolled her eyes, sick of their banter already, and Callisto placed a hand on her arm in an attempt to soothe her irritation. When that failed, the older nymph turned back and hissed for the pair to stop bickering about it; the Asgardians would learn, in their own time, that in order for the hunt to be worthwhile, they needed to actually try. Thor promised to make an effort, and while Artemis had every ounce of faith that Lady Sif and Loki were actually capable of being quiet when they needed to be, Thor’s words meant very little when she could hear him and the Warriors Three from across the palace courtyard in the midst of basic conversation. She should have been excited to be out in the field again, but based on the last hunt, she assumed it would be more of the same – which meant there was very little point to it indeed. 

It had been two days since Loki visited her in the baths, and since then she had done an exemplary job of ignoring him. Now, Artemis was polite and even friendly when they were in the group; she had no desire to let anyone think their relationship had changed. They had always seemed closer than she was with the rest of Thor’s companions, and it seemed to actually please her intended that she was so close with his younger brother. However, she refused to see him the two times he had tried to contact her in private, and had Callisto play interference whenever there was a chance of them running into one another when she was alone. She didn’t mean to be cruel, but she needed to put a stop to whatever they were doing before it got out of hand. 

She wanted to kiss him. As much as she mentally berated herself, she truly desired Loki, and that was a fairly unwelcome surprise. After all the time they had spent together over the recent months, she hadn’t anticipated developing deeper feelings for him. He wasn’t at all the type of man she had been attracted to in the past; he was the weakest of the Asgardians in terms of physicality, and his intellect was refreshing though daunting at the best of times. In comparison to Orion, he shouldn’t have even registered in her mind as a potential mate. Thor was everything she should have wanted: brass, loud, outgoing, muscular, and a proficient fighter. 

Yet here they were, off to go on another hunting trip, and all Artemis could think about was how she ought to avoid looking at the younger prince for fear that her stomach may squirm happily. She concluded that if she ignored him for long enough, he would stop vying for her attention, and maybe one day they could rebuild the friendship that they had started. However, with nobles watching her every move and Callisto growing increasingly suspicious, Artemis knew it was better to be safe than sorry; no one would want a queen who had been involved in a scandalous affair with the king’s brother. 

She readjusted the strap that attached to her quiver, and then tightened her grip on her bow as they entered the courtyard. For the first time in, well, ever, the Asgardians had beaten Artemis and her girls to the stables, and when she arrived, Thor presented her with her horse. 

“He’s eager, my lady,” he greeted, stooping to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I promise to behave this time… Lady Callisto gave me a tongue-lashing last night about being silent in the wood.”

She shot her handmaiden an appreciative smirk before accepting the reigns and shrugging, “It’s no loss to me… We simply won’t catch anything if you and your boys insist on thumping around like giants.”

“Boys?” she heard Loki repeat as he strolled through the entrance gates of the stable, “Are we to believe Lady Sif is not included amongst the noisy Asgardians?”

“She’s quieter than you,” Artemis sniped in return. She forced an interest in her horse’s nose when Loki approached, and smiled under Thor’s gaze when the younger prince placed a chaste kiss to her cheek and then clapped his brother on the arm in passing. He seemed less interested in her than usual, but that soon resurfaced when Thor disappeared to saddle his horse. As soon as she was clear from supervision, Loki returned. 

“I have a good feeling about today,” he told her, and Artemis watched as their horses exchanged an affectionate greeting. 

“Do you?” She kept her tone neutral in an attempt to appear uninterested, and then tugged her horse’s muzzle away from his horse. 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he murmured softly, and Artemis simply slipped her bow over her head and let it rest across her body. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“If only that was the truth.”

She pursed her lips, and then dragged her horse toward the entrance gate of the stables when she saw his hand reach for her from the corner of her eye. Callisto soon joined her, and it was fairly apparent that she had forgone the tidiness of her horse for the sake of keeping her mistress company. As Artemis clambered atop her small beast, Fandral and Aora made their way out of the stable area, and a sharp look from her forced Aora away from the Asgardian quickly. The princes followed shortly after, and lastly Volstagg and Nomia made the group complete. It was no surprise that they were last; unless Volstagg had a servant tending to his horse, it took him nearly an age to get the beast saddled and ready, and Nomia didn’t have it in her to leave her companion behind. 

“A scout told me this morning that he had spotted the herd grazing near the forest we were in on our previous venture,” Thor informed her, his horse’s hooves clacking noisily across the stone courtyard. “He said there were over twenty of them in the open… most likely more inside.”

“Oh,” Artemis replied. It made her smile to know that he was taking such an interest in hunting, particularly when it was obvious it wasn’t the prince’s favourite thing to do. “I suppose the odds are in our favour then.”

“If we don’t catch anything this time, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Volstagg announced from somewhere at the rear of the group. Artemis’s smile grew when she heard Nomia hush the giant man, and after exchanging a brief, unwelcome glance with Loki, she urged her horse to fall in line behind Thor’s as he made for the exit. 

Their route was typical now, and Artemis could predict where and when they ought to turn, even in the lush green plains of the countryside. As usual, her girls were exceptionally excited to get out of the palace and into nature; Artemis had the opportunity to leave more often than they did, yet they loved the hunt almost as much as she. When Artemis was to be queen, she decided that all of her handmaidens would have the allowance to go wherever they wished if their chores were done, and that included the wilds of the realm. Naturally, their lives would be at a greater risk once she was queen, but she was sure they would not object to an added bit of protection should they wish to hunt without her. 

Even with Hogun and the Lady Sif missing, the group caused an immeasurable amount of racket as they raced through the wilderness. She suspected the horses were in a bit of a mood today, as they were constantly in a contest with one another to see who would bring their rider to their hunting grounds first. In the end, it was Aora’s horse that was victorious, followed shortly by Thor and Fandral, and the others trickled in to the forest clearing at roughly the same time. 

Once there, Artemis dismounted and set her stead off to wander wherever he should please to; he subsequently found a spot to gaze next to Loki’s mare, and Artemis stomped off toward the wood in a huff. Beneath the cool shade of the trees, she loaded her bow with a new arrow, and then waited until Callisto picked up the trail of their game. Thus far, she had yet to see or hear anything that indicated what the scout had said was true, but she assumed that any creatures that were lurking had retreated into the trees at the sound of the arriving stampede. 

“Here,” she heard her blonde nymph call. Artemis pushed herself off the tree that had been her leaning-post, and then hurried soundlessly across the distance between them. She found Callisto and Aora squatted down between two clusters of underbrush, their fingers trailing over the impressions in the dirt. 

“There were a few that passed this way,” Aora informed her as she approached. “They’ve gone south into the woods… Fairly straight set, it seems.”

“Heavier footprints,” Callisto muttered, pointing out several to make her case. “It might have been a group of males.”

“Bucks?” Fandral repeated as he rubbed his hands together eagerly, and Artemis quirked an eyebrow at him. “Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

“Bigger prey,” she mused.

“More of a reward,” Volstagg said, which earned a chuckle from Thor.

“Yes, but much more dangerous,” Nomia interjected, her voice soft compared to the rest of the Asgardians. “If they’re in a group-“

“They will defend themselves,” Callisto finished as she straightened up. She loaded her bow and exchanged a quick look with Artemis, “This could actually be a success, my lady.”

Artemis would have responded, but she pressed her lips together firmly when she heard twigs crackling under Thor’s careless steps. 

“You have a tone of surprise, Lady Callisto,” her intended remarked, his tone good-natured despite the irritated look she shot him. “We’ll catch a beast yet!”

Loki sighed noisily behind her as Thor pressed onward, and Artemis laughed softly as she reached for his thick arm. 

“I wasn’t aware you were a tracker,” she mused gently. Thor paused, eyes darting between her and Callisto, and then offered her an impish grin. 

“Yes, I… suppose I was a little… overhasty.”

Fandral snorted, but seemed to rethink his comment when Thor looked back at him, and instead merely shook his head at the blond prince. Rolling her eyes, Artemis pressed on after Callisto and Aora, and left it to her girls to hush the Asgardians whenever they became too rowdy. They were such a talented bunch of warriors, but if something exciting didn’t occur every two or three minutes, they were bored. Naturally, there was no mission out in the woods, no end goal to strive toward, so she couldn’t expect them to put their full energies into it. 

Just as before, Artemis had to quiet her temper and acknowledge that she would never be as successful a hunter on Asgard as she was on Earth; her hunting party here was far, far too obnoxious. If her girls had ever made that much noise, if they had stomped through bushes and crunchy leaves with little regard for the disturbance they made, Artemis would have removed them permanently from her team. However, as much as she could kindly chastise Thor and his companions for their indelicate footsteps, she did not have the authority to ban them from making the trip out into the wild. Besides, almost everyone here went hunting in an effort to please her, which made it even more difficult to be outwardly flustered with them when they weren’t quite up to her standards. 

In all fairness, they did at least try initially; they kept their conversations in whispers, and apologized whenever they stepped on a particularly noisy twig. However, more than an hour into the hunt hadn’t yielded much more than a continued sign of tracks in the soft earth, and Artemis knew Thor’s patience was at its breaking point. So, rather than let the peace disintegrate, she suggested they take a rest here. Her girls had a sac full of packed food, and as the Asgardians lounged, they set up a picnic in the middle of the clearing. 

“I’m going to fetch us some water,” Nomia announced as she straightened up, two empty water bags in hand. “The river was just north of here, wasn’t it?”

“Allow me to accompany the young lady,” Volstagg offered as Artemis nodded. “We can’t have her eaten by anything out here, can we?”

Thor gave a deep chuckle at the idea, “I suspect Lady Nomia would have better chances out here alone than she would with you!”

Artemis noticed the deep blush on her handmaiden’s face as Volstagg joined her, but she knew it was more about the implication of their solitude than anything else. Although she was decently aged for a human, her time among immortals made her infinitely childlike in nature. Nomia and Callisto were never a worry for her; Aora usually took most of her frustration and concentration, but she liked the nymph so much that she couldn’t find it in her heart to send her away for her behaviour. 

Her back cracked noisily as she twisted her upper body from side to side, and then set her quiver at the foot of a tree. At that very moment, she heard something in the distance, but unlike the heavy footsteps of Asgardians, it was light and nimble. As she turned in its direction, she closed her eyes, focusing all her energies into listening to the sounds of the forest. Sure enough, she detected the footsteps again, and without telling the rest of her company, she grabbed two arrows and set off into the trees. It was fairly easy to follow the sounds as she moved farther away from the incessant chatter that had plagued the group for quite some time. 

She loaded her bow soundlessly with both arrows, knowing that she was capable of releasing just one should she need to. It was then that the footsteps stopped, as did Artemis, and as the soft breeze wafted through the trees, she realized that she had lost her prey. Frowning, she carried on in the general direction of the sounds, only to stop when she spotted a great deal of movement somewhere in the distance. Her frown lessened as she saw a young buck bolt from her, navigating through the trees with ease, and she set off to follow him. 

Unfortunately, she became stuck when she tried to leap through a split tree, the base of her sandal now wedged between the two sides. This was why she never wore shoes! Artemis grunted irritably as she tried to yank her limb free, and then tossed her bow aside when she realized she had lost her prey anyway. 

“Oh, honestly,” she grunted as she planted her free foot and tried to tug the other leg out by the knee. When that wouldn’t give, she contemplated undoing the straps of the shoe and abandoning it, but they too were trapped between her foot and the bark of the tree. 

“This is why we always travel in pairs.”

She shut her eyes and sighed as Loki’s voice floated toward her, and she wondered how long he had been watching her struggle between the trees. 

“I have no need for assistance,” Artemis snapped as she continued to pull at her foot. “You may leave.”

However, rather than heed her order, Loki stood directly in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, head cocked to the side. He was silent for a moment or so while she struggled, and she finally shot him an exasperated look. 

“Go away.”

“No.”

She pursed her lips at him, and then continued on her quest to get her foot free. “Won’t they notice you’re missing?”

“Everyone’s taken a bit of a wander,” Loki informed her. “Callisto went looking for you, and my brother went to see what is taking Volstagg so long.”

Her frown deepened. “Aora and Fandral are… guarding the site then?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

She sighed irritably. “Wonderful.”

The Olympian watched as he gathered up her bow and arrows, and then set all three down by the base of the tree, his hands then clasping behind his back again. 

“I wish you wouldn’t ignore me.”

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” she snapped as she avoided his gaze. “I’ve merely been less forthcoming in our interactions. I think it is for the best.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, one of us should,” she sneered, shooting him a narrowed look before trying to peel the bark away from her trapped foot. “We can’t both be fools.”

“I am a fool then?”

“You are if you continue to pursue me.”

“I know you wish you could pursue me,” Loki hissed, taking a step toward her as his voice dropped in volume. “Do not pretend that I am the only one looking for something-"

“You are!” Artemis forced out through gritted teeth. “I am trying to take a step back so that in the long-term, you and I can be something.”

“We could be something now-“

“Enough,” she said firmly. “I’ll not speak with you about this again.”

Her foot managed to give a little when she pulled at it this time, and she braced herself between the two trees as she tried to pull upward. 

“He isn’t right for you.”

“Oh, isn’t he?” she snapped as she glared up at the Asgardian prince. “I hadn’t noticed… So glad you are here to enlighten me!”

“You-“

“Who is right me for then?” she carried on sharply. “You?”

He finally seemed taken aback by her, but before she could get something else in there, perhaps one more dig to send him away for good, he spoke over her.

“No one,” Loki told her softly. “I don’t think you should marry at all…”

She wrinkled her nose at him – he couldn’t know that he made her happy with the statement. So, she shrugged her shoulders. “Where were you when my family had a council to decide my future wedded bliss?”

“The wrong place… evidently.” 

He then crouched down in front of her, and then as she watched, managed to tug her foot neatly from its trappings. It seemed she needed to use gentle pressure to free it, and once she was out, she put herself at an appropriate distance from him. 

“If it’s what you truly desire,” Loki said as she gathered up her bow and arrows, “I’ll leave you alone. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Fine,” she breathed as she threw her bow over her shoulder and glared. “That’s exactly what I desire.”

They stared at one another for a moment, and Artemis hesitated when he took a step toward her. However, rather than stop directly in front of her and touch her (as a part of her hoped he would), Loki simply carried on, sidestepping her figure and marching back in the direction of the camp without another word. Artemis swallowed thickly, her eyes on his retreating figure, and then followed with a permanent frown on her lips for the remainder of the day.


	14. Truly

Artemis was not a jealous person by nature. When she was younger, she watched her step-mother spiral into violent rages over her father’s indiscretions, and saw Aphrodite bicker with other goddesses over who was the most fair, only to curse a man for choosing anyone other than her. She had seen jealousy, and it wasn’t a trait she desired to portray. While she may have surrounded herself with lovely nymphs and huntresses on a daily basis in the past, she seldom felt threatened by them: she was a goddess, they were not, and she was always the best hunter. Should she ever feel threatened, Artemis simply left the situation and forgot it; why dwell on miseries? 

Unfortunately, this was a situation where she could not remove herself without bringing attention to the earliness of the hour. Tonight had been a celebration for a retiring guard, one who had served Odin for centuries and was finally given his leave to spend the rest of his days with his family. She had gone into it with the expectations of a moderately enjoyable time – after all, there would be wine and food as far as the eye could see, accompanied by music and good company. Callisto had somehow managed to outdo herself, and Artemis’s hair was so incredibly intricate that she actually worried about how they were going to get it out before bed. Meanwhile, she was dressed in a very fetching red garment, one that trailed to the floor and slit up her thigh, and it seemed to earn the approval of her intended as soon as she met up with him. 

She may have looked stunning, and the food and drink had yet to disappoint, but Artemis was in a miserable mood. Dinner had been splendid, but as soon as the hall broke out into the real party, Loki up and disappeared, and when she spotted him sometime later, he was in the company of another woman. It had only been a day since he offered to leave her alone, and already he had found someone else to fill his time with. Now, she knew she shouldn’t be upset with him, but as she sat backward at one of the great tables, her back and elbows resting against the solid wood, she couldn’t help but glare. The woman was attractive: fair and lovely. It was plain to see that Loki had some sort of type that interested him. 

As much as she wanted to tell Callisto what was bothering her, she simply couldn’t. After all, she was the one who had asked Loki to leave her in peace, and he was following her request down to the last detail. While they had engaged in a shared conversation at dinner, nothing had been said directly between the pair, and for once he hadn’t seemed distraught by it. Instead, he was merrier tonight than she had seen him be for some time, and his mood was infectious enough to make his brother almost intolerably giddy throughout the meal. From there, he left, and was spotted later by Artemis after she politely declined a dance with Thor. He was seated across the hall, the woman on his lap, and she watched as they shared a cup of wine between them. 

Thus far, he had yet to even spare Artemis a passing glance. The hall grew excessively noisy as the hour dragged on, and it seemed Artemis and her girls were the only ones not falling over themselves in various states of inebriation. However, she quickly realized the alcohol may actually help her get through the night and potentially forget what Loki was doing to her. So, with that in mind, the Olympian ordered another goblet of wine, requesting it be filled right to the top. She declined when Aora asked if she wanted to join in on the card game her handmaidens had started, preferring to watch than engage in merriment. 

However, another two hours passed with six cups of wine, and with her system saturated in it, she allowed Thor to steal her for one dance. She laughed a little too loudly when they neared Loki and his partner, but she didn’t dare look his way to see if he noticed.

* * *

Loki let out a sigh as he stared at his bedroom ceiling, and then sat up to readjust his pillow. For the last hour or so, he had been trying to fall asleep, and thus far had been quite unsuccessful. It wasn’t as though he had a reason to be awake; the day had been long, the night even longer, and he had just spent a number of hours entertaining a woman to the best of his abilities. All things considered, he ought to be tired. After all, to be charming and pleasant to a woman who was not Artemis took a surprising amount of work on his behalf, and by the time the night’s festivities had ended and Loki sent the noblewoman on her way, he felt drained. 

As much as he knew the woman would have preferred the night to end in his bed, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had wanted Artemis to feel the bitter sting of anguish at the sight of him with another woman, and when his ploy had been successful, he decided the games could stop. It wasn’t as though he did not enjoy having a pretty woman on his lap for a night, a visual reminder to his contemporaries that he could get a woman if he tried; they weren’t all lining up for Thor and Fandral. However, the woman he actually wanted was now horribly upset with him, and had spent her night drinking and dancing with his brother. So, while he had accomplished what he set out to do, he wasn’t particularly sure what it got him in the end. 

He shouldn’t have even bothered. She was the one who wanted him away from her, so why did he try to bring her back? Artemis had made it perfectly clear that she needed the space, and that meant that no matter how hard he tried, she would be the one to take a step back at every turn. Loki had no desire to chase someone ceaselessly until he lost them, but at this point it had become increasingly difficult to do anything but that. So, perhaps what was keeping him up was that – what he ought to do next to chip away at her walls. Unfortunately, there were only so many excuses to approach her publically before people around them would grow suspicious, and her handmaiden barely let him in the same corridor as her bedroom anymore… 

He exhaled deeply again, his hands now resting behind his head, eyes unfocused as his mind worked through his future plans. A frown graced his lips when he heard something just outside his door, and he eased himself up onto his elbows when he saw a figure slip inside his bedchambers. They were hooded and cloaked in black, but with his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the moonlight from his rather expansive window keeping the space alight, he had no trouble tracking their movements. Perhaps he should have reconsidered dismissing the night watch who monitored his room… 

Loki scooted across his bed and sat at the edge, a white sheet thrown over his naked lap as his eyes narrowed at the intruder. He ground his teeth together when he spotted a smattering of blonde hair poking out from beneath the hood, but before he could dismiss the noblewoman, he pressed his lips firmly together when she dropped the cloak altogether. 

“Artemis,” he breathed, stomach tightening as she took another step toward him. Although he had watched her drink for the latter half of the evening, she showed no signs of drunkenness. There was a slight tremor in her hands as she observed him, but otherwise she had the same steadiness as always. She stood before him in nothing but a white nightgown, which was just sheer enough to show the outline of her body beneath. Someone had managed to untangle her hair from the ridiculous updo it had been in earlier, and Loki much preferred the blonde waves cascading down her back than braided around her head. 

For a moment, she seemed unsure of herself, and Loki watched as she glanced back at the door. However, that moment was fleeting at best, and he licked his lips anxiously as she strode toward him, stopping well within an arm’s reach. Their eyes met at last, and it was only then that Loki realized she appeared angry at him. He stretched out to take her by the wrist, to offer a calming touch to accompany his words, but she slapped him away before he reached her. She trembled visibly now, but still said nothing to him. So, taking the initiative and testing his luck, Loki grabbed both wrists and yanked her toward him. He then placed her cool hands on his shoulders before dragging her down onto the bed, and she let out a soft puff of air when her back made contact with it. 

He couldn’t believe his good fortune… Loki hovered over her, resting on his side as her hands fiddled with the material of her night dress. He then placed a hand on her bare knee, and slid up her smooth skin, eyes closing briefly when he realized she wore nothing beneath. However, rather than letting himself explore inappropriately, he merely brought his hand to rest on her hip, his palm pressed firmly against the bone that protruded upward. His own sheet had almost fallen away at this point, but he couldn’t think to adjust it. He wanted to kiss her, but she stiffened when he dipped his head down. Therefore, he merely pressed his lips to her temple, breathing in her scent as she trailed the tips of her fingers over his arm. 

“I do not take a lover lightly,” she murmured when he placed a line of delicate kisses down to her neck. Loki brought himself up and tried to hide the ridiculously smug smirk that tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help but feel proud; she had said the word first. Lover. She desired him as a lover. 

“No,” he whispered, his forehead now pressed to hers as his hand slid up to her waist, “you should not.”

“No one can ever know,” Artemis continued, and Loki felt his skin prickle when she placed her hand on his bare side. At this point, he actually had trouble carrying on a normal conversation, let alone remembering to breathe properly. 

“Our secret,” he agreed weakly. “Is this what you desire? Truly?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes at the confession, and he could feel her breathing quicken against his lips. “I wish it wasn’t, but it is.”

Loki finally kissed her, unwilling to hear any more of the truth. He had been given what he needed from her, and at the back of his mind he knew she would have preferred that their feelings had not existed. However, this was the state of their relationship, and by now it seemed there was nothing they could do to change it. Her lips pressed gently back against his, and he tried desperately to restrain himself. For now, he was satisfied with kissing, to feel her lips and tongue meet his with the same longing he had felt for months now. 

Their kiss grew steadily more passionate, and her hands nestled in his hair while his roamed the soft flesh of her legs. He groaned softly when she broke away, and then rolled the pair over so that Artemis straddled his hips, his arousal no doubt incredibly apparent between her thighs. She swallowed thickly as she sat up, her hands on his chest as she nibbled her lower lip, and Loki placed his large hands atop hers, thumbs stroking her. 

A frown appeared on his lips when he realized something was missing, and he held up her left hand for him to view; she had removed Thor’s ring. She pulled her hand from his grasp sharply, wrapping her arms around her body instead, and Loki sat up. There was an embarrassment in her eyes when he searched them out, but he said nothing on the matter; it wasn’t his place to comment on her choices, even if their situation had changed. Instead, he kissed her neck, eliciting a small cry from her when he used his teeth on her collarbone. 

As much as he appreciated what the white shift did for her figure, it seemed this would be easier without it. So, Loki slid his hands beneath the fabric and tugged it upward slightly, his eyes searching out hers for consent. She nodded quickly, biting down on her lower as he brought the material up and over her head. He had pictured what she might look like beneath her robes dozens of times, and smiled slightly when he saw the reality lived up to his expectations: round, pert breasts and a smooth stomach. She was pleasantly toned, and although he would have liked to simply stretch out beneath her and ogle her, still bewildered that she let him do any of it, he knew he couldn’t. Artemis was already hesitant about this, and he had no intention of scaring her away by objectifying her in the moonlight. 

With one arm wrapped around her waist, nothing but his thin sheet between their nakedness, Loki trailed his other hand down her spine, enjoying the way she shivered beneath his touch. She knotted her fingers through his hair as he kissed along her neck, and then winced a little when she yanked his head back. It was only a matter of moments before she lifted her hips and removed the blanket between them, and Loki hissed sharply when her free hand gripped him. She then eased herself down on him, and his eyes shut tightly at the sensation: hot and impossibly tight. When she had slid down to the hilt, her wetness pressed against him, she placed her hand on his shoulder, using him for balance as she slowly shifted up. 

He let her carry on like that for some time, gripping his hair and shoulder so tightly that he occasionally felt a twinge of pain. That was, however, off put by the way she clenched around him and the pleasure that drew. He placed his hands on her hips, but tried his best not to set any sort of pace for her. After all, she seemed to be doing just fine on her own, and he certainly did not have any complaints. However, it soon became harder and harder to resist taking charge; she now had both hands on his shoulders, and bounced on his lap with her eyes closed, forehead knitted in concentration. She might have been the quietest lover he had ever had, but he could see the satisfaction plainly written across her face, and she let out a breathy moan when his lips found her throat once again. 

Finally, it was too much to take, and Loki flipped her onto her back wordlessly. Her legs wrapped around his hips as he took her, and he kissed her with the unrestrained need he had been hiding for so long. He dragged one of her hands from his hair and pinned it down, fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist as he thrust roughly against her. Her quietness disappeared now, lost as her muffled cries sounded against his lips and then the nape of his neck. With her free hand, she clung to him, whimpering his name over and over as she clenched around him – he assumed she was close, which spurred him onward. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he hissed in her ear, grunting a little as his thrusting became sharper, her cries more desperate. “What you needed?”

“Yes,” she stammered, head thrown back and neck exposed. “Please don’t stop.”

“I may not be able to help that,” he chuckled, “this time.”

“That’s alright,” Artemis muttered, kissing the base of his throat softly as he slowed. “Perhaps… Perhaps next time then.”

He reached down between them, and smiled as a breath hitched in her throat. He didn’t know quite enough about her yet to determine what she may like personally, but in general he knew how to work a woman up to their breaking point. When she twitched beneath him, eyes closed again as he teased her, he resumed his previous pace, though not quite as roughly this time. He wanted to see her finish first, to feel her crack under him. She suddenly inhaled sharply, her body stiffening, and he heard something of a strangled gasp caught in her throat. Her skin felt flushed as he ran his tongue along her neck, infinitely pleased with the way she responded to him. He found his own pleasurable end shortly after, groaning her name into her hair when his pace finally stuttered to completion.

She winced a little when he pulled away from her, rolling onto his back as they both tried to bring their breathing under control. He glanced at her, taking in the way her chest heaved and her blushing cheeks. She had a hand on her stomach and another across her chest, and her eyes stared up at the ceiling. 

“Are you well?” Loki inquired, his voice cracking under his uncertainty. She shot him a quick look, and then smiled as she turned back. 

Her tone was earnest when she replied, “Very.”

He reached out for her hand, the one resting on her stomach, and she gripped his in return when their fingers knitted together. Unfortunately, the gesture was short-lived, and Loki frowned a little when she pulled away and sat up, running a hand through her lengthy hair.

“I shouldn’t stay,” she told him. Despite the fact she was completely bare above him, it was easy to gaze into her eyes; she was no longer being malicious with him. “If someone notices I’m… not in my room, or saw--"

“I understand,” he said. “Truly.” 

She bent over the side of the bed to retrieve her nightgown, and then slipped it on over her shoulders. It saddened him to see her covered up again, but he knew that if he protested to her leaving, she may not ever return. He did, however, reach for her as she started toward the door, catching her by the arm and tugging her back. 

“Wait,” he ordered softly. He then smiled as she leaned down and planted a firm kiss on his lips, her fingers lightly grazing his cheeks before she pulled away. 

“Sleep well.”

“Will we do this again sometime?” he inquired, his grip tightening on her as she tried to pull away again. 

“Yes,” she whispered, giving him one final kiss before flitting off. She scooped her cloak up along the way, and Loki fell back down to his bed the moment he heard his door shut. 

Shockingly, sleep came easily within a matter of minutes, though it would be the last night he slept well for quite some time.


	15. Mountains of Tenderness

Artemis hadn’t felt like herself for the last two days. She wasn’t the type to drink over a man, nor did she make it a habit to crawl into their beds in the early hours of the morning. However, in one night, she had managed to do both, and although she had felt fleetingly wonderful in the aftermath of her actions, the harsh light of morning soiled any good feelings that lingered. Although he hadn’t managed to leave any physical traces of her indiscretion on her skin, Loki had marked her in ways the rest of the realm couldn’t see. Her connection to Thor had been weak, though growing stronger in the recent weeks, but as of that morning it had been cut completely. She couldn’t possibly go through with marrying a man after having slept with his brother; she wasn’t Aphrodite. 

Unfortunately, when she saw her intended after breakfast the following morning, Artemis could barely speak let alone look at him. Loki seemed to pass through the meal in a bright enough manner, but their eye contact was intermittent and strained. Meanwhile, Artemis felt a horrible knot forming in the pit of her stomach whenever she listened to Thor speak. It wasn’t quite a feeling of guilt at that point, but rather a hollow sensation that made her mouth dry. She did feel guilty, in a way, because she owed her allegiance to the man who had given her a sacred ring as a promise. Whenever the guilt did start to build up, Artemis squished it by reminding herself she did not owe her entire allegiance to the Asgardian prince just yet; there was still nearly six months to go before the wedding. Until then, Artemis was technically a free woman. 

Technicalities did nothing to stem her paranoia that someone had caught wind of her poor judgement. She had no regrets with Loki, but worried what a scandal might do to the relations between her family and Thor’s. After all, her father needed the marriage in order to use Thor as an ally against the Titans, and he was sure to take Artemis breaking the engagement poorly – his temper was never something she wanted to poke at. In theory, she should have ended things with Thor. It was plain now that she had feelings for Loki, ones that stemmed deeper than a friendship would permit, and it would have been unfair to everyone to continue a false engagement. 

Reality, unfortunately, was nothing of the sort. It would have meant tensions between Olympus and Asgard, with Olympus being the aggressor because of Artemis’s actions. Although she shouldn’t have cared, she also feared for what it may do to Loki and Thor’s relationship. While the elder prince may have pushed Loki around from time to time, love was obvious between them, and Artemis did not want to be the woman who ruined that. Loki was responsible for his relationship with his brother, and although she hadn’t the slightest idea how he was feeling, she knew he was more than capable of sorting himself out. 

All of this was fine and dandy, but logic hardly helped her persuade her feelings to dissipate. So, after a very stiff breakfast seated next to Thor and across from Loki, Artemis dragged all three of her girls down to the pools for a swim, followed by a day spent in the outdoors. Callisto seemed to have eased up on her suspicions, and did not bring up a single mention of her relationship with either prince for the duration of the day. Her girls loved being outside, and the group only returned to the palace when their stomachs screamed for some sort of nourishment. Luckily enough, the lateness of the hour meant the rest of the palace’s occupants had already eaten, and after making her apologies to Odin and Frigga when she ran into them, Artemis was free to dine with her girls. 

She would have preferred to then spend the night with her handmaidens, as the temptation to seek out Loki was quite overwhelming. It was a sensation she did not approve of for herself; she had always been very level-headed and clear on her wants, and yet even though she was constantly trying to logic her way through her situation, she spent the day being out of sorts. The fog surrounding her brain intensified when Thor ambushed her and her ladies while they were on their way to the shared bedroom at the top of the tower – one of the few real places Artemis could find privacy aside from her bedchamber. He asked her to take dessert in the garden with him, and seeing as she had rejected him several times already, she agreed. 

The guilt may have also had something to do with her consent. 

Dessert consisted of typical Asgardian sweets, all of which Artemis still found either too heavy or sweet. She picked away at the fruit platter, her legs crossed and one arm tucked into her lap, while Thor indulged himself in a never-ending array of pastries. The conversation thus far had been light, as always, and Artemis appreciated that neither of them forced themselves to dwell on the deeper subjects of the world. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Thor planned to break habit tonight, and Artemis frowned a little when he shifted, the lightheartedness of his gaze fading as he cleared his throat. 

“I was wondering if you had given any thought to the wedding?” he inquired hesitantly, fingers fiddling with the crust of his most recent slice of pie. She raised both eyebrows at him, and he added, “You know, what you’d like to have.”

“What I would like to have?” She popped a sweet green fruit in her mouth, chewing in an attempt to appear pensive as he observed her; not once had she thought about the actual wedding. 

“Yes,” Thor continued, still playing with his food. “Mother tells me that most women have their weddings planned when they are little girls…”

She smiled kindly. Thor’s mother would be the type to have a wedding planned for a millennium before it actually happened; Frigga was made to be a wife and mother, and while it was an admirable position to attain, it was clear she lacked other life ambitions. Naturally, those that merely wanted to be in the home – a dull life indeed – would vamp up the party of their lives, the celebration to mark their ascent into their rightful places. The notion did not make her think less of the Asgardian queen, but merely cemented the fact that they were two very different women, and surely bound to be very different rulers.

“I… Uhm…” She wasn’t the type to hem and haw through a conversation, but seeing as her brain had been a little sluggish all day, it took a while to get started. 

“I’d like you to have whatever you desire,” Thor told her, his tone confident now as he squared his shoulders. She quickly realized he was much more comfortable around her when he was showing off. “Anything at all.”

She licked her lips, fingernails drumming noisily on the table as he stared at her, and she decided that she ought to give him the truth; Artemis had been deceptive enough for one day. 

“I actually never thought I would ever marry,” she admitted. She offered him a small shrug when his eyes narrowed a little, no doubt confused over the statement, and she laughed weakly. “I never made plans because… Why would I when it wasn’t something I saw for myself?”

“Not even now?”

She almost winced as a flicker of something unreadable flashed across his face, but Artemis assumed it was hurt. So, she tried to bring the conversation back to its previously light state with a lie. 

“I had given it a little thought,” she told him, which made him smile faintly. “I… I had thought…” Her mind grasped for something to give him, but the conversation’s nature made that hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach resume its torments. “Perhaps it could be outside.”

“Yes, the weather will have cooled by then,” Thor noted with a nod. His grin was infectious, but Artemis returned it somewhat anxiously. “I can arrange for it to take place in the courtyard… We could have flowers brought from Olympus, if you’d like? I recall you had very lovely ones in your hair the day we first met.”

She blinked back her surprise that he even bothered to remember such a pointless detail, and then felt a little terrible when she replied with, “Well, I meant more so… outside outside. Perhaps in a … field or… by a forest…”

“Oh.”

“And I think I would like it small,” she continued, her mind finally clearing up just enough to offer a serious opinion regarding the issue. “Friends and family only… I don’t want a spectacle of a wedding.”

Thor fell silent when she finished, eyes now downcast toward his plate as he pushed the crumbs of his dessert around. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, smoothing her airy skirt down over her legs as she uncrossed and crossed them again, and then resumed picking at the bowl of fruit. This was generally why she kept her true opinion to herself since she had arrived in Asgard; people rarely saw eye to eye with her thoughts. 

“As pleasant as that sounds, my lady,” he said finally, making her eyes dart up to him, “it seems more like the wedding of a commoner… not the future king and queen. It will need to be a spectacle.”

“Of course.”

“It will be good practice for us,” he mused, reaching for another dessert but not taking one. Instead, his hand came to rest on the table. “The monarchs are always in the eyes of the court and its people.”

“Yes.”

She wiped a bit of fuzz from her orange fruit, and then finished it in two delicate bites. Meanwhile, Thor continued to stare down at the half-empty plate of breaded desserts, his hand still resting atop the table. 

“I’m sorry.”

Artemis’s eyes widened as she glanced up at him and noted both of their smiles had vanished. She shook her head. “You needn’t be.”

He nodded, and in that moment Artemis found it terribly difficult to look at him. It was plain that he was trying so hard to please her, to make her feel comfortable, and here she had gone and bedded his brother. Artemis hadn’t planned on actually feeling anything about her indiscretion when she saw Thor; her logic about the incident was sound, so why didn’t the rest of her follow? 

She pursed her lips when she realized her hands were sweating, and proceeded to hide them under the table. 

“Now,” Thor started up again, the usual bounce returning to his voice as he straightened up, “if you’re finished, I know the Warriors Three have started setting up for what is going to be a very lively round of cards tonight-“

“I think I’ll just retire for the evening,” she told him as pleasantly as she could manage. “The sun today has made me incredibly tired.”

“Oh, I understand.”

She smiled through her lie, smoothing down her dress as she rose. “Please give my apologies to the Warriors.”

“None are needed, my lady,” Thor insisted as he reached across the table to take her hand. She would have rather pulled away than let him touch her, to see the signs of her discomfort, but she thought better of it in the last moment. Instead, she clutched his hand in return, as though all was forgiven for his inability to give her some silly wedding in the manner that she desired. 

After they exchanged one last fleeting smile between them, Artemis departed for her bedchamber. She moved in the shadows of the palace, silently and quickly, as she had no desire to be stared at by any of the staff. Most of them probably didn’t even realize they were doing it, but they had an annoying habit of gawking at her whenever she was in a rush. Luckily enough, there were only a few roaming about that night, and Artemis found it easy to bypass them in silence. When she finally arrived on her corridor, she slowed her pace and moved out of the darkness, body still tense from her short time with Thor. 

“Artemis.”

She flinched embarrassingly as Loki hissed from her from behind a pillar, and she whirled back to glare at him. Since she had been on her floor of the palace, Artemis hadn’t anticipated finding anyone lurking about behind pillars and such. He stepped forward just enough so that she could see his features, but he remained behind the pillar; apparently it would be better if someone saw Artemis talking to herself than to him. 

“Must you skulk?” she snapped, glaring at him before sparing a quick look in both directions of the hallway. Damn him. All of this was his fault – all the feelings she had grappled with that day were a direct result of his ability to charm her. 

“I’m not skulking,” he insisted, folding his arms across his chest as he frowned at her. “I was merely waiting… If you hadn’t run off to hide all day, we could have done this at a more suitable time.”

“We aren’t doing anything,” Artemis informed him flippantly, and then stalked toward her bedroom door. She could hear him trailing after her, darting across the hall smoothly and slipping into her room just as she tried to shut the door on him. 

Her eyes flickered to the vanity’s mirror as she moved toward it, and she saw him lean back against her door. He was dressed fairly plainly, lacking his formal cape and robes in favour of a clearly more comfortable fabric. It was all still quite dark, something she had noticed he preferred over Thor’s lighter metal gear. 

“We should talk.”

She shot him an unimpressed look in the mirror as she began removing her unnecessary amount of jewelry, depositing each piece onto the counter without a care if the necklace tangled or the bracelets chipped. 

“Must we?” she sighed, and then rolled her eyes when he nodded. “I don’t have anything to say yet… My mind can’t make sense of it.”

“Make sense of what?”

Her hands moved to her hair, yanking out pins in order to finally relieve the tension the hairstyle had caused her all day. She raised her eyebrows at him as he continued to wait for an answer. “What we’ve done.”

“Do you love my brother?”

“Do you?” He seemed thrown by the question, mouth tightening as he surveyed her from across the room, and Artemis let out a lengthy sigh again. “No.”

“Do you care for me?”

She shook her head as she let the braid that had been wrapped around her head snugly fall, returning to its proper place down her back. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Do you or do you not?”

“I do,” she spat, throwing her hands up irritably as she turned back to glare at him. “Yes, I do.”

Artemis despised the grin that touched his lips after, and she resumed facing the mirror as he approached her. She watched him sidle up behind her, run his hands down her limp arms and across her stomach, and then place a kiss on her neck. Her skin prickled in response, thoughts of the pleasure he had delivered earlier popping up to the forefront of her mind, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to gain control of one of her senses. 

“You see,” he murmured as his hands left her arms and moved to her hair, loosening her braid slowly, “it really is that simple. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

She smirked. “How can you say that? I’ve betrayed my intended and you’ve done so to your brother-“

“And that is my burden,” Loki snapped, his tone sharp enough to make her open her eyes. “Do not speak to me of it again.”

Artemis turned back, the flurry of movement knocking his hands from her hair. When she tried to push him away as punishment for his unnecessarily harsh tone, he snatched up her wrists and spread both arms out, forcing her forward as his lips sought hers. Her stomach tightened again, but it was fairly obvious that the guilt and hollow feelings had vanished, replaced by a need that she rarely ever felt for a man. When her lips responded hungrily to his, parting and tongue probing, Loki walked her back until her knees knocked into the stool in front of the vanity. 

She broke the kiss for only a moment, lifting her dress so that she could kick the offensive piece of furniture out of the way. A gasp slipped from her lips when Loki then proceeded to hoist her up onto the vanity, her back pressed against the mirror as he reclaimed her mouth once more. She cupped his face and pulled him in closer, almost desperate now to simply take whatever he could give her; it would help block the way her brain screamed for her to stop. 

His hands went to her legs, and she sighed happily as he yanked the fabric of her unnecessarily long skirt up, bunching it around her waist as he stepped between her parted thighs. Artemis licked her lips when he pulled away, opting to kiss along her jaw until he reached her ear, and she gave a startled cry when he simultaneously clamped down on her earlobe and slipped a pair of fingers into her. He groaned softly against her skin, no doubt pleased that she had forgone constraining undergarments and was obviously eager for his affections. She bucked her hips against his hand, needing something more as her fingers dug into the soft fabric over her shoulders. 

Lengthy foreplay was something Artemis would have normally preferred to skip; it prolonged what she truly desired, and generally she dispensed with it quickly. So, in order to get at what she actually wanted, her hands slid down between them and attacked the ties of his trousers. His breath hitched in his throat and the pace between her thighs floundered as Artemis loosened the waistline and pushed the fabric down. As expected, she found him equally aroused, and he hissed her name when she pushed his hand away from her and gripped his solid length firmly with both of hers. 

“Now… please,” she whispered shakily, running a hand along his length while the other tugged him closer by his hip. He seemed momentarily hesitant, but that was dispensed with when he snatched her wrists for a second time and placed them up on his shoulders. She bit back a cry as he pushed up into her, slamming her back against the mirror. His thrusts were ragged, harsh, and Artemis wrapped her legs around him to keep him close, appreciative of his handling. 

She rarely desired something like this – she preferred to be in charge of her sexuality, to dictate what happened and when. Orion hadn’t been allowed to manhandle her, to take her roughly, and they had been lovers for centuries. Yet here she was, clinging to Loki as he slammed into her. She wove her fingers through his soft hair, yanking back on it as his thrusts grew sharper, and he responded by nipping at the tender flesh of her neck. 

“No marks,” she ordered quietly, and then moaned when he switched his pace to grind his hips against hers. The motion drew such pleasure from her, and she bit down on her lower lip, eyes shut as he teased her with slowness. 

“This is done,” Loki informed her, groaning when she clenched down around him. “We’ll not question it any longer… Do you understand?”

“I-“

“No more hesitation,” he continued in her ear, his earlier pace resuming. Artemis feared they would shatter the mirror. “We’re… We are in this together.”

“Yes,” she managed in return, and then whimpered his name when he reached between them to bring her over the edge. Considering this was only their second coupling, she had to marvel at his knack for seeing her to the very end of her pleasure, and it was a wonderful pleasure indeed. It was one that began where they joined, and then branched up and out to every limb. Her head lolled back as she basked in the sensation, a contented grin on her lips as he planted open-mouthed kisses along her neck, a contrast to the roughness that accompanied each thrust. 

His grip tightened painfully on her hips when he finally reached his own pleasurable end, groaning against her as his pace stuttered. She could tolerate marks there, a place where no one but her and her new lover would see, so she held back her chastisement. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a brief, tender kiss as they tried to get their breathing under control. Artemis appreciated the faint flush of colour on his skin, and he smiled as she walked her fingers along his neck to trace the hue. 

“It seems we’ve made a mess of your baubles,” he murmured, and she glanced down at the jewelry and finery that had fallen to the floor in the midst of their tryst. 

“They don’t belong to me,” Artemis laughed, kicking one away as Loki pulled out of her. She hissed at the loss of contact, but then raised her arms obediently when he dragged the soiled fabric of her dress up and over her head. He tossed it on the floor without a care for its condition, and she leaned back against the cool mirror as his eyes roamed her body, appreciation obvious in his stare. 

“Care for a bath?” he inquired, grinning at the way she shivered as he trailed a finger down her between her breasts to her navel. “I heard they installed a lovely tub in here before you arrived…”

She would have loved to simply hop off the vanity and join him, but some of the awful thoughts had wriggled their way back to the forefront of her mind. She sighed. “How are we going to do this?”

“Well, I had heard you turn on this device called a tap,” he teased, linking their fingers together as he gave her cheek a kiss, “and then you fill a tub with water-“

“Loki.”

He huffed at her when their eyes met, and then planted a firm kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he swallowed noticeably. “Isn’t it better not to think about it? We’ll have… all this time to dwell and worry in the future. Why think about it now?”

Although he had a point, it was a weak one at best. However, she could hear the undertones of desperation in his voice, and rather than rant on about it, she decided to save the discussion for another day. So long as they were discreet, that conservation could surely wait. 

“Draw the bath,” Artemis ordered, giving his hands a quick squeeze before easing herself off the vanity, “and I’ll get the door.”

He smiled down at her and kissed her once more before sauntering off to her en-suite bathroom. As she turned her lock as silently as possible, hoping that no one would hear the door bolt, Artemis listened to the sound of the water running. It all seemed far too easy, too simple. 

“Come along,” Loki called, and she caught him staring brazenly at her more flattering extremities from across the room. “I cannot retain my masculinity _and_ pour the appropriate soaps in…”

She let out a laugh as she darted across the room, taking his hand willingly as he tugged her toward the tub.


	16. Can't see the Landscape

The corners of Artemis’s lips quirked upward ever so slightly when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki stop chewing for a fraction of a second. To an ordinary observer, one may have thought he tasted something foul in the food, or potentially come across a bone in their roast. However, Artemis knew she had been the cause of the distraction, even though her eyes were fixed on the banter that occurred between Odin and Thor. She had slipped her foot out of its shoe and ran it up her lover’s leg, trailing it between his knees and up his inner thigh. Naturally, she stopped right before it reached its final destination, as she had no desire to cause a scene, but she so enjoyed forcing Loki to school his features in the presence of others. 

She certainly wasn’t alone in her torment. For the month that she and Loki had been intimate, they never missed out on the opportunity to make a discrete play for affection when they were in public. Naturally, whoever initiated the move was in control, and the struggle for power had been a particularly potent theme throughout the duration of their relationship. Thus far, Artemis assumed they had been careful enough with their public toying to keep the secret safe; among many of the traits she admired in Loki, she quickly learned he was an excellent actor. It usually only took him a second or so to react to something random and out of the ordinary, and from there he could mask his expressions so well that Artemis wondered if she had affected him at all. 

It was fairly clear, however, that Artemis had some sort of effect on Loki, as his passion had yet to dwindle when they were alone. He could have almost been Olympian by the way he lusted after her privately, and Artemis had yet to experience this degree of physical intimacy in her long life. Although they were not together every night, they saw each other a great deal more often now than they had before they admitted their feelings for one another. Loki always came to her, as it was safer for him to travel through the secret passages of the palace at night; besides, if they were caught, it would be far more difficult for Artemis to explain why she was in his corridor than he in hers. 

Thor seemed completely unaware of the affair, and that was the way they preferred to keep it. Even if Loki and Artemis saw fit to play with one another at a dinner or dance, or even on a hunting trip, they always toned their behaviour down in Thor’s presence. She hadn’t discussed what the secrecy had been doing to Loki and his personal relationship with his brother, but she hadn’t felt the need to; it wasn’t her place to pry unnecessarily. Artemis assumed that, when he was ready, Loki would opt to share his feelings. After all, she had yet to tell him a single thought she had on her impending marriage, and she assumed they both preferred it that way. 

Artemis, on the other hand, had come to a conclusion about her future husband. She decided earlier that month that she could, in fact, love Thor. She could love his fire, his tenacity, his humour, and his charm. If she could keep her affair with Loki a secret, and they could somehow find a way to keep it alive, she foresaw a satisfying future as an Asgardian queen. However, she knew she could never be in love with Thor; as desperately as she might try, her heart had already been won by another young prince. Now, she couldn’t be sure if she would ever truly love Loki, but she held a very strong affection for him, and for now, that was all that mattered. 

She threw her head back in laughter when Thor and Odin reached the apex of their entertaining antidote, evidence that she had been paying rapt attention the entire time, and shared a slight eye roll with Frigga—oh, how silly men are! 

With a chuckle still emanating from her lips, Artemis finished up the remainder of her leafy dish; she had opted out of the meat portion of the meal that evening, as she still found Asgardian local meats too rich for her tastes. In lieu of that decision, the cooks had added a plethora of delicious vegetables to her plate, and even somehow managed to incorporate some fish at the base of the salad – exquisite. As usual, she was the first to complete her meal, and she tried to push her final few bits of lettuce around in an attempt to remain included in the family dinner. 

“You mustn’t forget,” Frigga remarked suddenly, placing a hand on her husband’s wrist, “to send gifts to the festival tomorrow.”

“Woman,” the king groaned, batting her off playfully as Thor and Loki exchanged small grins. “How long have I been All-father to Asgard?” His bushy eyebrows shot up as he observed his wife, who merely pursed her lips, her eyes twinkling. “And in that time, have I ever forgotten to honour the games?”

“Once, Father—"

“Quiet, you,” Odin ordered lightly, flicking his fork in Loki’s direction as Thor chuckled. “You were only a boy when that happened… Must you remember everything?”

“When it suits him, yes,” Thor remarked, which earned him a tight smile from his brother. Artemis licked her lips, slightly annoyed that no one noticed the way their jests affected the youngest in the family, and quickly sought to change the subject. 

“What are the games?” She kept her tone light, as though only interested for the sake of carrying on the conversation, and she saw Loki shoot her a look out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s tradition that the rural countrymen host at the end of the hottest days of the year,” Frigga explained warmly. “They have feasts and games to celebrate the coming harvest.”

“Oh?” Artemis straightened up a little. “I do love a good games festival.”

“They are very spirited,” the older woman continued, her hand returning to Odin’s wrist. “We send an ambassador out with a gift… It’s our way of wishing them luck for the farming season.”

“Do you ever attend them yourselves?” Artemis inquired. She adored the idea of witnessing a festival somewhere outside of the palace. As much as she could appreciate the grandeur of Odin’s house, a part of her continued to yearn for the simplicity she had known throughout her lifetime on Earth. 

However, it seemed as though that would not be the case. Thor grinned at her, and then patted her hand, just as Frigga did to Odin, and then shook his head. 

“We host our own feast at the end of the season,” he told her. “Lithasblot is one of the most highly attended festivals of the year… Mother always does a wonderful job decorating the grand hall.”

Frigga smiled demurely under her son’s praise, and Artemis bit the inside of her cheek. However, she kept the frustration from her tone as she leaned forward to speak again. 

“But are the monarchs of Asgard not a people’s monarchy?” Odin arched an eyebrow at her, and she tried to tailor her words carefully. “Surely the people would appreciate seeing their royal family enjoying the games?”

“Ah, but there are far too many smaller festivals throughout the countryside,” Frigga reasoned, no doubt speaking up before Odin could. “We cannot be everywhere at once… That is why we send the gifts. I am told they are always received well.”

“Yes, of course,” she conceded. “Naturally… How could they not be?”

Artemis had never been a particularly talented arguer. After all, she lacked Apollo’s gifted tongue. There was a certain bluntness to her discussion that always ruined her chances of being clever or sneaky during a conversation; she had learned long ago that it was best to state her opinion, and then hush up when she saw no means of further persuasion. In this situation, it seemed as though she had no hope of making her future family see her perspective, and it was easier to nod and smile. 

“Not to worry, my lady,” Thor said as he returned to his plate, stabbing his hunk of meat sharply. “We have an archery competition that I am positive you will win. It’s only two weeks to wait for our own Lithasblot.”

She nodded, and then finished up the rest of her few leaves in silence. Of course she would win an archery competition – it wasn’t exactly a sport that Asgardians excelled in. However, she had no desire to participate in a festival that had all the pompousness and flair that she usually found with palace events. She simply wanted to pick up a bow, load it, and take a shot without a hundred judgmental eyes of the court watching her. Thor and Loki must have been used to the attention by now, but it was still something Artemis felt uncomfortable with. Even in Olympus, she disliked attending council meetings because she had no desire to be put on display; what a mockery of her values her life had become. 

As usual, the evening meal concluded when Odin finished, and he was generally the last to get through his plate. At that point, Frigga was chiding him for taking so long, Artemis was scooping up the remnants of her salad sauce onto her fork, and the prince across and beside her were battling over the final pieces of fresh bread. When the All-father finally pushed himself away from the table, there was a flurry of movement as the rest did the same and servants scuttled forward to clear the area. 

Luckily enough, she had spent the afternoon watching Thor and the Warriors Three in the training arena, which meant her intended was not inclined to ask for a dessert date. Instead, he merely kissed her cheek, told her he would be in the public pools should she need him, and then disappeared with Loki down one of the many marble corridors. Artemis watched them retreat for a moment, and then drifted listlessly in the direction of her bedroom. 

As expected, her handmaidens waited in the corridor, all three perched on an intricately carved bench just beyond the entrance of the dining hall. 

“Did you have a good supper, my lady?” Callisto inquired as they rose to greet her. 

“Lighter than usual,” she remarked, a hand on her stomach. “I feel as though I’ve gotten wider with all these Asgardian meals.”

A chorus of denial followed, and Artemis silenced her girls with an abrupt wave of her hand. She didn’t particularly care that she had put on a little weight; if she could keep up on a hunt, her figure and athletic abilities were still intact. 

“What would you like to do tonight?” Nomia asked brightly, bouncing to Artemis’s side with a girlish grin on her lips. It was obvious her handmaiden longed to be outdoors. “Volstagg told me everyone is going to the pools-“

“You are welcome to join them,” Artemis said quickly, “but I am having a bath and going to bed.”

There was a bit of a stilted silence after, and she turned back to observe her girls. They seemed somewhat lost, to be given permission to attend an event with Thor without Artemis, but she had no desire to be with the group tonight. 

Aora was the first to react, and Artemis observed her curtsied thanks. The nymph then snatched Nomia’s arm and tugged her down the hallway, their excited whispers easily heard in the vastness around them. Callisto lingered, which was not a surprise, and Artemis let out a lengthy sigh. 

“Something is off, my lady,” the blonde nymph remarked. “Please, tell me what troubles you? You’ve never kept secrets from me before.”

She smiled gently, and then shook her head. “I have kept many secrets from you in my lifetime, Callisto.” The nymph frowned, and Artemis took her by the hand. “I will tell you everything in good time… All of my secrets in this palace.”

“I knew there was something,” her handmaiden insisted, stepping closer and dropping her voice. “It’s with him, isn’t it?”

“Not here,” Artemis snapped, eyes darting in both directions of the hall before she continued. “One day, Callisto… Not now.”

“You can trust me with anything.”

The earnest quality of her voice made Artemis’s chest tighten, and she leaned forward to place her forehead against Callisto’s, their hands knotted tightly together. “I know.” 

She gave the nymph’s hand another squeeze, and then stepped away, her dismissal hanging between them. 

“There is something more,” Callisto insisted, forcing Artemis to stop some distance away from her. “You’re distressed, my lady. I can hear it in your voice, see if in your body…”

She licked her lips, and then turned back to face the nymph, her closest companion. 

“I’m becoming a show horse, Callisto,” Artemis told her, her arms hanging limply at her side. “Every day I lose more and more to this title I am to gain. I have only a few more months before I am lost completely.”

“No, no, my lady,” Callisto cooed, her footsteps soft as she darted across the distance between them. “You are not losing yourself… You are simply adopting a new face. You will still ride, still hunt, still lay beneath the stars. Thor is kind…” Artemis met her eyes sharply, her eyebrows knitting together. “He’ll deny you nothing!”

Artemis laughed weakly, and then kissed the nymph’s forehead. “My sweet and optimistic Callisto… Go to the pools. Keep an eye on Aora.”

She did not desire hours of reassurance from Callisto, even though she knew the nymph would give them if she asked. A somewhat pleasant smile touched her lips as her handmaiden scowled at her, clearly annoyed to be ordered to leave, but she obeyed all the same. When Artemis was sure that Callisto had left, she turned sharply and continued on her journey up toward her bedchambers. 

Now, she wasn’t the type to wallow in self-pity, but she was in no mood to sit amongst the happy drunkards who were down by the pool. Loki would miss her, undoubtedly, but surely he had noticed her change in mood over the course of the dinner conversation. 

There were only a few servants out that night, and most of them scuttled out of the way as she marched by. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but that changed as she strolled along the corridor directly below her floor. It was usually uncomfortably silent: lovely, of course, with its dark marble and exquisite tapestries, but clearly a part of the palace that had very little use anymore. However, Artemis swore she could hear something scratching about nearby. It wasn’t loud enough to cause concern, but it did manage to attract her curiosity. 

She paused in the middle of the hall, listening for a moment to determine which side the sound emanated from – the right. A quick glance in both directions confirmed that she was alone, and she moved with feathery footsteps toward the wall itself. The sound seemed to quiet down as she approached, though she could still hear something scuttling about on the other side of the wall. A frown touched her lips as she ran a hand along the smooth surface, following it until she was at a tapestry of Asgard’s countryside. 

It was there that the sound stopped entirely, and Artemis let out a huff; so much for her distraction. Lips pursed, she turned back and studied the dimly lit hall to the best of her abilities, wondering if there was a chance that some sort of vermin had slipped into the walls. Everything seemed so solid… 

She let out a shrill gasp when an arm snaked around her waist and hauled her backward. Instead of colliding with a marble barrier, Artemis found herself encased momentarily in complete darkness, and then in a different, though still dimly lit, corridor inside the wall. 

“I can always trust you to be curious,” Loki murmured in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. Artemis pushed his hands off and turned back to glare at him, displeased that she had been bested. 

“I thought you were going to the pools,” she sneered, smoothing out the crinkled fabric of her dark orange dress so that it hung properly. 

“Is someone sour because she was tricked?” her lover cooed. He then recoiled and ducked out of the way when she tried to hit him. Artemis couldn’t help but chuckle softly when he danced around her to avoid her fists. “I told Thor I was going to the library instead of the pools… He immediately lost interest.”

“Such a clever little prince you are.” She finally stopped trying to slap him, and instead grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him closer. “It’s been three days since we were last together.”

“Yes,” he breathed, his hands immediately finding a secure spot on her hips, his lips to her neck. “Yes, it has.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she inquired. She tilted her head to give him access to her skin, but the tone of her voice remained neutral, as though unaffected by his affections. “To take me in some secret passageway”

“I hadn’t thought of it,” Loki grunted. He then pushed her roughly against the wall and went for her legs, no doubt meaning to hoist them up around his waist. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, it’s all I can think of-“

Artemis grabbed hold of his ear, and then tugged and turned it sharply – punishment for his kidnapping of her. 

“Woman,” he hissed, releasing her entirely as he sunk down. She smiled gently, but continued twisting the sensitive skin until he was completely to his knees. 

“Why did you bring me back here if not to enjoy me?” she demanded, finally releasing his ear and stroking the tender flesh with her fingers. He glared up at her, and she cocked an eyebrow, trying desperately to keep the smile from her lips. 

“I had originally wanted to surprise you,” he insisted, “but now that you’ve manhandled me so violently—"

“Oh, stop it.”

He smirked, and then gathered both of her hands in his, taking the time to kiss each knuckle as he spoke. “I am going to take you to the games.” She relaxed a little under his ministrations, and then inhaled sharply when he nipped at the underside of her wrist. “I brought you here so I could tell you my sordid schemes in private.” 

“And how do you propose do take me there?” she asked. She slid down the wall and eased him back just enough so that she could sit astride him. “I’ve already been told that I am to wait until we host our own games here.”

“Ah, but that’s no fun,” Loki murmured, his eyes dancing along the low-cut neckline of her dress, arms wrapped securely around her waist. “Thor and I used to sneak off to the games when we were boys… It was always more enjoyable when my mother wasn’t watching us.”

“Naughty rogues,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his for a brief moment before pulling away, her hands stroking the sides of his neck. “You wish to sneak me out?”

“It used to be so easy,” he mused, his gaze unfocused. “We would leave in the early hours of the morning, ride out to the village, sleep by the stream, and spend the morning at the games. When we had had our fun, we would ride home and be back before the evening meal.”

“Why?”

“Well, I suppose because we could—"

“No,” she said softly, nuzzling his cheek with hers. “Why do you want to take me?”

He was silent for a moment, a hand trailing delicately along her back, and then pressed a kiss to her chin, followed by her cheek, and then her nose. Artemis grinned and batted him away. 

“You seemed so put out at the thought of not being allowed to attend,” he said with a sigh. She swallowed thickly as his gaze sought out hers. “I couldn’t stand to see you upset… Not when I can fix it.”

Artemis felt her cheeks colour, and she poked his chest sharply. “Liar.”

“Not in the slightest bit… Not to you.”

She sucked in her cheeks, slightly uncomfortable at the overt declaration of affection, and instead tried to divert his attention back to the subject at hand. 

“How will we get there?”

“I have one servant who I trust unconditionally,” he informed her, nipping at her chin as she laughed. “He will ready our horses, and we can depart from the back gate in an hour.”

Artemis smiled broadly, “Off to have an adventure all of our own.”

“And by the time someone realizes we are gone,” Loki continued as he helped her to her feet, “we’ll be on our way back.”

“You spoil me,” she laughed, brushing her dress off before planting an unexpected kiss to his lips. “Now get me out of here so I can prepare a bag.”

“Come,” he beseeched, taking her by the hand and tugging her down the corridor. “There’s a tapestry by your room we can pop out of…”


	17. The Games We Play

It wasn’t until they were far out into the countryside that Loki removed the shadow he cast over the pair and their horses. When it finally left, Artemis felt as though she could see the world clearly again, and blinked away any lingering bits of fog. The morning was still dark, and Loki’s magic had made everything hazy and fuzzy, but it did its job – that was what mattered. 

After they parted ways in the palace, Artemis threw together a small bag, in which she packed a cloak and a fresh change of clothes. If Loki was correct, they wouldn’t be gone for more than a single morning, and it wasn’t as though she would need anything beyond one new outfit. She chose something plain and discrete, as she had no desire to stand out in the crowd. Naturally, she wondered about how they would move throughout a peasant festival without someone at least recognizing Loki, but she had set her worries aside then in favour of assessing a more pressing issue – sneaking out of the palace. 

Artemis was free to go wherever she wished, but it would certainly appear suspicious if she was discovered dragging her horse out in the very late hours of the night with Loki by her side. Luckily enough, her lover had seen to all the loose ends, and when he had collected her from her room, he put all of her worries to rest. Just as he had said, there was a trusted, silent servant waiting for them at the back gate. Both she and Loki had drawn hoods over their head, moved through the shadows, and avoided the few guards roaming the palace corridors. From there, they mounted their steeds, and Loki encased them in a shadow that hid them from sight and sound. 

They traveled beyond the city limits, Loki’s magic shielding them from anyone who may have been up at that late hour, and broke out into a full gallop once they were away from any hustle and bustle. As usual, Artemis’s beast was thrilled to be out in the field, and while she let Loki lead the way, she permitted the horse to leap about and set his own pace. However, she was forced to slow the beast when she saw Loki turn his mare back toward them, and she quickly came to a halt as he approached. 

“What is it?” she asked, shooting a quick look over his shoulder in an attempt to see the impending trouble. When she saw nothing, Artemis fixed her gaze back to her lover, an eyebrow cocked. 

Loki said nothing as he brought his horse up beside hers, and he remained silent as he reached out to grasp her by the chin. Artemis grinned softly as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and she clung to his wrist in acceptance. The kiss was quickly open-mouthed and demanding, and for the first time, there in the midst of the open plain, she could accept him without a fear of being caught. There was no one to spy on them in a dark hallway, nor did she fret that they had accidentally not locked her door; she could kiss him uninhibitedly at last. 

It wasn’t until Loki’s mare moved away on her own that they were parted, separated more by necessity than desire, and Artemis placed a hand on the flushed skin below her neck. 

“How much farther?” 

Her eyes were accustomed to the darkness at this point, but she still squinted when Loki pointed in a westerly direction, his horse clearly antsy to get moving again. 

“The stream is just beyond that small cluster of hills,” he explained. “The village is in a valley by the stream. We will be able to view them, but they cannot see us.”

“That sounds like it will always be our story, doesn’t it?” she mused, urging her horse onward. Loki kept her pace this time, and they traveled across the grassy plain in silence. The wind was sharper here than it had been in the city, and she hoped it would ease off by the time they joined the games in the morning. 

As usual, she saw no creatures within the Asgardian plains, but in the very early hours of the morning, she could hear the cries of something on the wind. She wasn’t familiar enough with the beasts of the realm to decipher what it was, but she assumed it came from the dark forests that encompassed the field on either side of her. A part of her wished to investigate, as she could only imagine the prize selections she would find if she hunted stealthily by night without the monstrous footsteps of Thor haunting her. However, she knew Loki was keen on getting a few good hours of sleep in before the games, and Artemis would not begrudge him of that. 

They had ridden for roughly two hours when Loki finally brought them to a halt. Artemis slid from her steed and patted his strong side firmly, and once dismissed, he strode toward the stream to quench his thirst. Loki’s mare followed, and Artemis planted her hands on her hips as she tilted her head up to view the stars. The twinkling orbs were even more beautiful here than they were from the bifrost, and as she heard Loki rustling about for the tent he had packed, Artemis dropped and settled down in the long grasses. The tips of the green blades tickled the backs of her calves and knees, but she merely folded her arms behind her head and stared up at the morning sky, infinitely pleased with the way Asgard’s nature continued to impress her. 

“Would you rather sleep beneath the stars, or in my tent?”

Artemis quirked an eyebrow, and then eased up onto her elbows. He had the fabric of what appeared to be a tent in hand, but he had yet to start building anything. She smirked. 

“What do you think?”

A lengthy sigh slipped from his lips, loud enough to carry over to her, and she watched him toss the fabric aside. Instead, he crouched down and pulled a blanket from his pack. 

“Well, come here then,” Loki ordered as he smoothed the material out over the ground. “I’m not sleeping directly on the ground.”

“Princess,” she teased, chuckling a little as she pushed herself to her feet and sauntered over to the makeshift bed. Once settled down next to him, she unlaced her sandal straps, which wound neatly up her calves, and then kicked them off the blanket. Loki had done the same, though he left his stockings on beneath his trousers, as per usual, and only removed the outermost shirt layer. 

He had a strange sense of personal comfort, her lover. 

She managed to find a comfortable spot on her back, her arms resting comfortably on her stomach, and she continued to stare up at the stars. Moments later, Loki snuggled up to her side, an arm thrown around her mid-section and his face nestled to her neck. Grunting a little, Artemis managed to work one arm up and over him so that it could snake around his neck, while the other hand simply rested atop the soft fabric of his shirt. 

“Are we being too bold?” she asked, and she felt Loki jerk awake against her. “Doing this?”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck momentarily before pulling her tighter against him, “but it’s done now.”

“We have only the repercussions to face.”

“Artemis,” he groaned. “Please.”

She pressed her lips together firmly, and then kissed the top of his head – apology made. Although it should have been something they discussed at some point, they had yet to go over what might become of them if they were discovered. Artemis would rather chat about it openly, whereas Loki preferred not to think of it at all. Naturally, they would need to come to a midpoint sometime, but for now she supposed it was easier to ignore everything and pretend the affair was unhindered by the future. 

It was easy to lose herself in the stars, and before she knew it, all the worries had floated out of her head. Shortly after that, she was asleep.

* * *

As predicted, she woke at the first sign of light. The day was warming quickly with the appearance of the sun, and Artemis shielded her eyes as she untangled her body from Loki’s grip. For the first time in years, her body felt sore after sleeping directly on the ground; perhaps she had grown too accustomed to a feathery mattress already. The aches and pains eased out as she stretched her stiff muscles this way and that, and at her side Loki groaned irritably. 

“We should have slept in the tent,” he muttered into his arm, and Artemis rolled her eyes. She gave his side a sharp poke, which made him grumble further, and then rose to her feet. The horses grazed nearby, and her beast flicked his tail in her general direction as she strode by. 

Just as Loki had said, she could see the small village in the crevice of the valley before her, and it seemed remarkably small for something in Asgard. Little houses – huts – scattered across the green plain, and in the centre Artemis could see a number of brightly decorated stands erected. Beyond the village, she spied what appeared to be arenas for the games, but they hardly lived up to the palace’s idea of a training arena. A smile touched her lips, and her stomach gave both an excited gurgle and a hungry growl. 

When she had finished assessing the village in the distance, Artemis settled down on the bank of the small stream. The water was wonderfully pleasant as she sank both legs into it, and after taking a small drink and splashing down her face, she contemplated taking a quick swim before the day truly started. However, Loki made that decision for her; he dropped down beside her, and she smirked at the sight of his pale calves as he dipped his feet in the spring. He still squinted beneath the bright morning sun, but after giving his face a few vigorous splashes, he seemed much more alert. 

“Did you bring something to eat?” 

“There’s always free food at the festivals,” he explained. He then pointed toward the village. “Thor and I have been here dozens of times… The women were always so keen on fattening us up.”

“Yes, back when you were adorable children,” Artemis scoffed. “Will we receive the same treatment now?”

“With my clever tongue and your dashing eyes?” he started, which made her scoff even louder. “We’ll be dining with the chief.” 

She rolled her eyes, and then climbed onto his lap, which seemed to take him by surprise. 

“Perhaps you could satiate another one of my appetites in the meantime?” she purred, wrapping her arms snuggly around his neck and pressing her lips to his. He let out a puff of shocked air, but easily fell into her rhythm, and even let her push him down onto his back. 

It was exceptionally easy that morning, as there had been several long days since their most recent tryst. Interestingly enough, Artemis was the one to peel back the outer layers of clothing first, and after a modest amount of caressing, kissing, and sighing, she slid down his entire length, her body clenching pleasurably around him. Her lover emitted a tight groan, eyes shut and head tilted back, and she appreciated the way his fingertips dug into her waist as she found a satisfying pace. 

Her end came quickly, facilitated by the precise movements of his skilled fingers, and she fell forward to his chest with a sharp cry. From there, she had no qualms to give when he rolled her onto her back and took her as he saw fit – roughly, with punctuated thrusts that earned her a few scratches on her bare shoulders and no doubt bruises on her thighs. He finished with a noisy groan that sounded something like her name, and then proceeded to trail his lips softly along the flushed skin of her neck, leaving a line of kisses up to her lips and stopping at her temple. 

“How is your appetite?” he inquired breathily, and Artemis grinned. She then tightened her legs around him and rolled him to the side, taking the opportunity to sit astride him once more. 

“One is satisfied,” she replied, “though I suspect it will rear its ugly head again soon.”

“I always look forward to taming the beast.”

She smirked down at him, and then dragged her dress up and over her head. His eyes trailed along her features, as they always did, and he once again appeared as though he had never seen her nude form before. Orion had seemed nonplussed with her body early in their relationship, and yet Loki seemed eternally grateful whenever she stripped off for a bath. 

“Come,” she beckoned, sliding off him – pleased at the way he winced when they broke contact – and gesturing toward the spring. “A quick bath before we explore the games.”

The spring seemed to have warmed a little during their coupling, and Artemis eagerly dipped down before the surface as Loki peeled off his thick outer layers. Soon, he was at her side, arms wrapped around her and lips to her neck. 

“What if someone recognizes you?” she asked as she kicked her legs out, letting him hold her as she floated in the clear spring. “What if it’s the ambassador?”

“Ah, I had considered it,” he mused in her ear. “What would you say to changing our appearances?”

Her eyebrows shot up as she observed their grazing horses, and then licked her lips. “Magically?”

“Of course,” he replied. He then grasped her by the hips and turned her sharply, water splashing up between them. “Although, if your abilities are less than mine, perhaps we—”

“My abilities are just as good… if not better than yours,” Artemis sneered lightly, which earned her a quick peck. “Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

“Careful now,” he muttered as she placed a hand on each temple. “Don’t change anything important.”

“Hush.”

At this point in her lifetime, magic was as natural as breathing. She hardly had to think about how to summon it anymore, but rather what she wanted to do with it. Seeing as Loki had brought a change of clothes with him, she really only needed to alter his facial features and hair to make him unrecognizable. She started with the hair, changing it from a straight black to a curly gold. Shortly after, she altered the eyes to a hazel, thickened his lips and nose, and gave a little bit of width to his neck. When she stepped back examine her work, something felt off. 

Loki tugged a curl down to examine, and then glared at her. “Blond?”

“Well—”

“I don’t look like Thor, do I?”

“No,” she laughed, a finger held to her lips as she observed him. “No, I wouldn’t do that… You… You look like…” Her eyes widened, and she placed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, you look like a mix of Orion and my brother.”

“A mix of your former lover and your brother?” he repeated, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, that’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“Oh, let me change it,” she offered through her giggles, reaching out for him once more. However, he pulled his head back, the lightheartedness she adored about him still clear in his different eyes. 

“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, catching her hands and drawing them to his lips for a quick kiss. “My turn.”

Artemis closed her eyes as he went to work on her, and when she reopened them, he seemed slightly unimpressed with his work. He had given her light brunette locks, a painfully thin nose, and what felt like almost non-existent lips. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked as she combed her fingers through her new hair. 

“I like the way you look normally. This seems strange. Perhaps—”

“It’ll only be for a few hours,” she argued. She then took him by the hand and hauled him toward the edge of the spring. “My stomach cannot take any more delays…”

“I suppose I can be content with the fact that you sound the same,” he sighed as he followed her out of the river. 

“Oh, don’t sound so sour,” Artemis chided as she rummaged through her bag for her new dress. “This was your idea, and I think it was a good one.”

“Yes, I know it was,” he muttered, “but I wish I could look at you… This is the only time we’ll have to be with one another freely.”

She slipped her brown dress on, and then tied the strands of fabric around her waist. “Oh? Would you like to actually discuss our affair now?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I’m just…”

“Whining?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“You’re lucky I’m so fond of you,” she cooed, pinching his cheek playfully as he tugged his trousers up his wet legs. “If anyone in my hunting party were ever to whine, I’d send them home.”

“Ah, but you need me.”

“To walk into a village and play a few games?” she chuckled, knotting her hair up and out of her face. “Don’t be absurd.”

“No,” he said softly. “You need me.”

Artemis pursed her too thin lips at him, and then swiped up his shirt and tossed it at him. He offered her a grin in return, and as he finished dressing, she readied the horses. She certainly did not need him; he was simply someone who made her life a little easier. If he weren’t there, she would have been able to carry on in Asgard just fine – he was a distraction, not a necessity. 

She glared up at her forehead, as though irritated by her own untruthful thoughts, and then clambered atop her steed.

* * *

That morning had been exactly what Artemis needed to get her out of the funk that had surrounded her as of late. Although games and festivals of all sorts are riddled with competition, she felt an immediate peace as soon as she and Loki passed into the village. Seeing as it was a celebration that ran throughout the countryside, no one questioned who the foreigners were, and instead they were welcomed in and given food. When her hunger was spent on fresh, warm breads and some of the crispest vegetables she had eaten since Olympus, Artemis dragged Loki everywhere, her false face alight with childish glee. 

There were people everywhere, and for once, none of them looked at her. Naturally, she and Loki had earned a bit of attention when they first arrived, as they were outsiders to the village, but once they settled in amongst the rest of them, no one paid them any mind. She could walk as she pleased, talk as she pleased, and even occasionally hold Loki’s hand when she was sure absolutely no one was looking. What was absolutely wonderful about the festival was how seemingly normal it felt. She pictured an old Hellenic festival with games and wine and children running about; there had been many instances in the past where she and her maids had stopped a hunting trip to partake in the festivities. It was so wonderfully relaxing. 

She watched Loki engage in several board games, participated in a local card match that she had really only known through Thor, and played a match of kick-ball with some of the younger villagers. When they found the archery range, Artemis couldn’t resist; she let herself destroy her opponents in the first round, but then let them carefully edge her out over the course of the next three. Loki remained placidly interested throughout the whole ordeal, never once seeming bored with her antics or tired of her love for the archery field. He was patient, her lover, and his true colours shone through splendidly for the duration of the morning. 

The festival was to last all day, and they would apparently finish the night with a rousing display of fire and colour. However, both Artemis and Loki knew they ought to return to the palace. Even after successfully avoiding the gift ambassador, they knew someone might wonder where Artemis had gone, and surely her handmaidens would discover her missing soon enough. 

They were on their way back to collect their horses, which they had left grazing just on the outskirts of the village, when a figure barreled into them. It had clearly been an accident, as the stick-thin man apologized profusely for knocking into Artemis, and she quickly placed a hand on Loki’s chest when he stepped forward. She did not need a man to defend her, nor did she want one to ever come to her aid thusly. 

“I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” Artemis said briskly, brushing off her skirts as she gave the man a once over. “Watch where you’re running in the future… That’s all.”

“I was off to find a witness, you see,” the man babbled, clearly frazzled as he ran both hands through his scraggly hair. “Boris took all of my winnings—”

“That’s nice,” Loki grunted, taking her by the forearm. “You’ve made your apologies—”

“No, no,” Artemis said sharply, shooting him a look before shaking him off. “Tell me about Boris.”

The man blinked up at her, as though he momentarily forgot where they were, and then nodded, “He… He took all my winnings. I set them down for a moment to buy my boy a sword, and he snatched them all up.”

“What kind of a simpleton sets down a bag of gold?”

A rough bout of laughter followed, and Artemis turned back, an eyebrow cocked, to survey the man she assumed was this Boris fellow. As tall as Thor, though not quite as wide, he was a man who could clearly sit on the quivering one beside her and snap him in half. Hanging on his belt was a small purple bag, filled no doubt with a winner’s earnings.

“You took his gold while he bought his boy a sword?” Artemis repeated, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Loki sighed in her ear, the first sign of weariness all day. 

“I found it sitting there all by itself,” Boris remarked proudly, hoisting the purple bag from his belt and up in the air. “So I took it.”

“It was sitting right beside me on the table!” the man protested, looking to Artemis for some sort of reassurance. “I was going to pick it back up!”

“But you didn’t.”

Artemis wasn’t the type to involve herself in something that did not directly affect her, but she couldn’t stand to simply walk away now. This Boris fellow was everything she disliked about Asgard; he was loud, brutish, and immensely proud. So, she licked her lips and nodded to the frail woman at his side. 

“Is that your wife?”

“My daughter,” Boris remarked, clapping her soundly on the back. “She’s going to win the hair competition later.”

“Oh, yes, her hair is lovely,” Artemis sighed, giving the girl a once over and nodding at the perfectly poised blonde locks before her, “but she won’t win for you… I think she’ll win for me.”

“What—”

Before he could inquire further, Artemis strode across the distance and dragged the small girl to the side, holding her just out of her father’s reach. 

“Don’t you touch her—”

“Ah, but you weren’t minding her,” Artemis insisted. “Just as the gold, she was cast aside for only a moment. I’ve found her, so I’m going to take her. I can always do with another servant.”

“That is not the same thing,” the man bellowed, lumbering toward her. “Tonje, get back here.”

“No, no, I’ve taken her,” Artemis insisted, standing her ground as the man snarled down at her. “She’s mine now… Just as the gold is yours.”

She hardly flinched as the man brought his hand up, but Loki intervened quickly, stepping between them and shoving the man away. 

“Careful now,” Loki warned. “Striking the future queen of Asgard would not bode well for you.”

Artemis’s jaw fell slack, and she glared at the back of Loki’s blond head. 

“What?” Boris appeared momentarily taken back, and she could hear whispers flittering about through the gathering crowd. 

She suddenly felt a tingling sensation in her face, and when she glanced down at her hair, she saw that it had returned to its natural colour. A few people in the crowd of onlookers gasped, and she clenched her jaw tightly. However, no matter how displeased in that moment she was with Loki, she wouldn’t remove his magical disguise; if someone here saw them together, and recognized them before she had a chance to explain her absence to the people that mattered, they would be finished. 

What was he thinking?

“That’s right,” Loki continued, bowing out of the way to show her off. “Lady of Artemis of Olympus, the future bride of Thor and Queen of Asgard.”

“I don’t believe it,” Boris spat. His daughter made an attempt to return to his side, but Artemis latched onto her arm firmly, still needing her to prove her point. 

“The Lady was interested in the rural Lithasblot,” Loki told the group. He then produced a royal dagger from the depths of his shirt, proving his relation to the palace. “And she was also about to pass judgement on your thievery.”

She forced her breathing under some sort of control, and then licked her lips. The crowd seemed mollified, for now, and they watched her eagerly. 

“You cannot simply take something and mark it as your own,” she insisted tightly. This had become too much of a spectacle. “It makes you a thief, and a horrid one for choosing a smaller man to rob. You should win your earnings… Unless you lack the skill to do so.”

Boris’s face had gone red under the giggles from the crowd, and without another word he tossed the purple sac back to its original owner. When that was sorted, she permitted the quivering girl at her side to return to her father, and then beckoned for Loki to follow her. He fell in step behind her, and when they were far enough away from anyone in particular, he chuckled. 

“You’ll make a level-headed queen yet.”

She whirled back, her eyes narrowing up at his fake face, and then stormed off to the horses in silence.

* * *

Loki wasn’t particularly sure what he had done to earn Artemis’s ire, but she had been in a snit ever since they departed from the village. If she was irritated with him for stepping in with the whole Boris incident, they may need to have a talk; she had brought the attention on herself by interfering. It would have been just as easy for them to walk away and let the peasants handle their own business, but instead she stepped in and made a scene, and Loki took the opportunity to show her off to a group of people who would probably only ever know her name while she ruled. 

Whatever the reason may be, Loki was sure he wouldn’t be able to make his lover see his way. Instead, he needed to wait until the storm blew over, and when she had calmed a little, he would tell her why he showed her off to the locals. They hadn’t had many fights since they came together, but from what he knew about dangerous tempers, Loki realized long ago it was easier to let everything settle before coming back to the issue. 

They rode back to the palace beneath the blazing sun, and Loki assumed anyone who saw them within the city boundaries would guess they had gone for a morning ride. It seemed that many of the guards thought as much, and barely paid them any attention when they rode thunderously through the main gate. Unfortunately, as Loki dismounted in front of the stables, handing his horse’s reigns off to a servant, he spied Thor and his mother stalking toward them. He exchanged a quick look with Artemis, who had also spotted them, and they silently realized they had, in fact, been caught. 

“Good morning, brother,” Thor greeted, going straight for Artemis to help her off her horse. “A little early for a ride, is it not?”

Loki forced an innocent expression, and then bit his lower lip when his mother caught an eyebrow at him. 

“We were…” Artemis started, her voice finally pleasant enough for civilized conversation. “We were out for a ride… We felt restless.”

“Did that ride take you as far as Farsund?” his mother inquired lightly, and Loki sighed – the game was definitely over. However, he couldn’t let Artemis see him give in so quickly. 

“No--"

“And that is why you both felt the need to bring a traveling bag with you?”

Thor sounded amused, though there was a glimmer of something harsher in his eyes. Luckily, Artemis stepped in, wrapping an arm around Thor’s, her eye wide and imploring as she glanced between him and Frigga. 

“Don’t be angry,” she pleaded. “I merely wanted a glimpse at the games… No one would take me, and Loki volunteered—”

“We rode out this morning,” Loki continued. “We enjoyed a few games, and then rode back… It was far more innocent than our boyhood exploits, brother.”

That managed to make Thor laugh, and Loki kept the smile on his face as the older prince leaned down and planted a kiss on Artemis’s cheek. 

“If it meant that much to you, I would have taken you myself.”

“I didn’t want to take you out of your way,” she told him, eyes cast down in an attempted sheepishness. “I know you are so busy these days.”

“Even so,” his mother interrupted, reaching out for Artemis. “A queen never goes anywhere without her maidens or her husband… Next time, perhaps make your desires better known.” She took Artemis by the hand, a twinkle in her eye. “A queen also always gets what she wants.”

That managed to put a genuine smile on his lover’s face, and he watched them both flit off toward the palace in heated whispers. Perhaps Artemis was a better player at this game than he gave her credit for. Unfortunately, that left him alone with his older brother, who turned to him with raised eyebrows, arms folded across his massive chest. 

“I had a purpose for it, brother,” Loki assured him as they began to stroll back toward the palace entrance. “It made her happy without putting you out, and you should have seen the way the villagers looked at her.”

“Truly?”

“Yes,” he continued. “She settled an argument between two men as though it were nothing… Now all the peasants will spread word of Thor’s future bride… The wise, fair, and beautiful Artemis of Olympus.”

“She is wise, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes.”

“But I could have come with you,” Thor mused. “It may have been better for our people to see the two of us together…”

“Yes, but you cause such a fuss everywhere you go,” Loki insisted, batting the idea away briskly as they entered the shade of the veranda. “You would have been the focal point, not her. Brother,” he turned to face the man, “your coronation is only a few months away. The people love you dearly, but they must also love your queen… and they cannot do that with you overshadowing her.”

“I do not overshadow…” Loki’s eyebrows shot up, and his brother gave a barking laugh. “Well, perhaps a little.”

“Yes, a little.”

They were silent for a moment, and Thor sighed. “Did she enjoy herself?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

He winced as his older brother clapped him on the shoulder, and then offered a small smile. “The people will love her.”

“You always know what to do,” Thor muttered, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Where would I be without you?” Loki shrugged. “Thank you.”

It took a great deal of effort to swallow the lump that had amassed in his throat, but somehow Loki managed. He grinned at his brother, and then smacked his side. 

“Is it too early for some ale?”

“Never too early.”


	18. A Piece of My Heart

Artemis always thought she had been quite clever with her punishments. She had turned men into women for petty crimes against the fairer sex, banished deviants to the barren ends of the Earth for time to dwell on their misdoings, and even killed for infractions that offended her down to her very core. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find it in her heart of hearts to condemn Loki to such an abysmal fate, and kept his sentence much lighter than she might have done had they not been lovers. He had, after all, betrayed her trust by dropping the magical disguise she had dawned on their trip to the rural farmlands of Asgard, and in doing so, opened her up officially to the people. It wasn’t as though she had no desire to know her people; in fact, Artemis preferred to be on good terms with the peasant majority than the noble minority, but she wished to do it in her own time. 

To keep Loki as a lover, one who she was deeply fond of, Artemis needed to know that she could trust him completely. His little trick at Lithasblot may have been with good intentions, but it had thrown her more than she expected, and for that he deserved to be punished. Now, she hadn’t shouted at him, nor did she ignore him. Instead, Artemis merely banned him from her bed, and planned to keep him from it until she had forgiven him. Aside from that, her regular interactions with the Asgardian hadn’t changed. For the three weeks since the incident, they had maintained their secret affair to the best of their abilities, and despite having done nothing sordid, it felt as though their passion had yet to dwindle. 

His gazes and words were lustful, and there were times when she found it difficult to carry on her punishment, but somehow she managed. That wasn’t to say Loki had stopped visiting her either; Artemis assumed that once he realized he was being punished for his trickery, he may only seek her attention during the day without a care for who might see. No, Loki continued to sneak into her room at night and they would talk, laugh, kiss, but then she would send him away. He was surely aware of what she was doing, and Artemis hoped he knew why she sought to chastise him, otherwise it would be all for naught. 

Aside from Loki’s ongoing reprimand, her life in Asgard carried on as usual. She had been forced to resume classes with Frigga on queenly matters, as her wedding was only half a year away and the current queen thought she ought to be overly prepared for the burden. Artemis felt as though she knew just about everything about Asgardian history that her dusty textbooks had to offer, and yet Frigga continued to surprise her with new information during each lesson. She also wrongly assumed she had learned everything about Asgardian formal etiquette, and yet there was, apparently, always more to learn.

Just as Odin had said, the palace held their own Lithasblot, which was certainly a great deal less enjoyable than the peasant games had been. Artemis was only permitted to participate in one archery event – in which she destroyed her competition with ease – through the entire day, and afterward she was forced to sit with Frigga to act as a judge for various other tournaments. Thor seemed to enjoy her time in the limelight, beaming in her direction whenever she accidentally spotted him amongst the competitors. Loki hadn’t taken part in the games, and when she inquired as to his reasons, he explained that the games had always been more about boosting Thor in the eyes of the noblemen. 

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth, and as they lay in the privacy of her room that night, emblazoned with starlight and a cool Asgardian breeze, she decided that would be something she could change once she was queen – her new husband would not use public holidays as a time to show off. In fact, she intended to tone down Thor’s extensive grandstanding behaviour whenever they were in public in the most general sense. It wasn’t as though she thought he shouldn’t interact with his people, but from the stories she heard and the behaviour she had witnessed firsthand, Artemis thought it would be best to tone him down – if she could, mind you. 

The weather had already started to turn cool, and Artemis was thankful that she was no longer coated in a thin layer of perspiration whenever she exerted herself outside. The royal family in its entirety had left that morning for an event in the southern province of the realm, leaving the city in the very capable hands of their advisory staff. With all of them gone, Artemis was not required to take up any lessons, nor did she have the opportunity to sneak around with Loki; therefore, the majority of her daily activities were no longer relevant. So, she decided to give her girls the day off, and as they readied themselves for a trip to the nearby marketplace, Artemis grabbed Echo and had the servants prepare a food basket that she took down to the private pools. 

Luckily enough, the weather was still just warm enough to allow for swimming, and she even managed to encourage her sweet Echo to get in the water. The hound had almost tripled in size, and was impossible for Artemis to lift anymore. She would never be a hunting dog, her precious canine, but Artemis decided she would use the Asgardian beast for companionship and protection. There were many dangerous creatures lurking in the dark realms of this world, and she always valued the uncompromising loyalty of a well-fed dog. 

After wasting many hours away in the water, she took Echo for a stroll through the palace’s fruit fields. Located at the farthest point from the neighbouring city, the fields were expertly tilled and harvested, but she was pleased with the fact that she could still enjoy the remnants of berry trees and bushes. Echo seemed to relish the practice even more than she did, racing from tree to tree, her nose guiding her to the most interesting spots. She used the time alone with the pup to work on their commands, which Echo seemed eager to perform, and it seemed that Callisto had instructed the beast well. 

By the time they returned to the actual palace grounds, her dress and hair had finally dried out, but Echo’s energy was hardly spent. So, rather than forcing the pup to sit with her while she settled down with a book on some veranda, Artemis opted for another stroll through the inner gardens; she could never become tired of the palace grounds. When she was queen, she intended to turn even more of the land into fresh greenery, and they would slowly morph a realm of gold and stone into something a little more to her taste.

It was quite late in the afternoon when she stumbled upon two of her handmaidens in the garden. Nestled in amongst the trees that reminded Artemis so much of the Weeping Willows of Earth, Echo spotted them first, and with an excited huff of air, the beast charged them. Artemis nearly lost herself as she watched the frantic puppy waddle through the in-progress card game, her massive paws sending discarded cards this way and that. Callisto and Nomia lightly scolded the hound, pulling her off of their blanket in order to give her an equally affectionate greeting. 

“Well,” Artemis started as she strolled toward them, her soft yellow skirt fluttering in a sudden gust of wind. “I’m surprised to find you here… I would have thought you would spend the entire day in the city?”

“We ran out of money quickly,” Nomia admitted, her cheeks flushing when Artemis cocked an eyebrow, “but look at my bracelet! It was well worth the coinage!”

She crouched down as the human extended her slim wrist for her to view: gold and littered in turquoise gems. For a brief moment, she wanted to criticize her handmaiden for making such a frivolous purchase. However, she held her tongue; they were entering a frivolous world, and if she wanted her girls taken seriously by the servants of other wealthy ladies, perhaps she ought to start dressing them better. 

“It’s lovely,” she offered gently, fingers lingering on the cool metal. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Callisto’s shoulders sink a little, and she assumed her oldest companion worried about her reaction to Nomia’s finery. She turned her attention to the nymph as she settled down atop their blanket, reaching toward their shared fruit bowl to satisfy her twinge of hunger. “And you? Where did your stipend go?” 

The nymph shrugged as she collected the scattered cards, rearranging them into some semblance of an order. “Fabric.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” the nymph continued softly, “I’m going to make all of us proper Asgardian handmaiden robes… One of the queen’s maids is going to show me how.”

Artemis chewed thoughtfully for a moment, holding Callisto’s steady gaze as she did so, and then shook her head. “I have no desire for you to look like Frigga’s servants.”

“Well, we cannot look different forever, my lady,” Callisto insisted. She heard Nomia shift her positioning, and then busied herself with Echo, who seemed quite flustered that she was the only one not permitted to sit on the blanket. “We will need to become Asgardian soon… It’s better to start early than never.”

“And when did you grow so wise?” Artemis inquired with a laugh, waving away the serious tone of the conversation. “Make whatever you like, Callisto… but do not ever think that I desire you to look anything like them.”

The nymph grinned, and then finally set the playing cards aside; she had been fiddling with them throughout their discussion. “I bought clasps shaped like arrowheads. We’ll never be like them.”

“Good.” She reached forward and delicately cupped her handmaiden’s cheek, grazing the soft skin with her thumb. Echo’s jealous whine forced the women into a fit of giggles, and Artemis finally invited the hound to sit with them. The beast was much too large to snuggle onto one’s lap, and yet somehow Echo found a way to sprawl out in the middle of the trio, her tail thumping noisily against the ground as she waited for attention. 

“Oh, she’ll never be a hunting dog,” Nomia cooed, stroking the pup’s ears delicately, “but she’s just too sweet to get rid of!”

“You wouldn’t say that if you were the one to clean up after her,” Callisto muttered, which earned another barking laugh from Artemis. It was then she realized what had felt off about the discovery of Nomia and Callisto in the garden, and she frowned. 

“Where is Aora?”

It wasn’t as though she expected her handmaidens to be on top of one another at all hours. However, the trio were incredibly close, and when they had time to themselves without chores or duties hounding them, they could usually be found together. When silence was the only response she received from her girls, Artemis straightened up and folded her arms across her chest. 

“Where is she?”

She turned her eyes sharply to Nomia, but the girl continued to fidget with Echo’s ears, gaze cast decidedly downward. The air had suddenly changed between them, and her skin prickled at the drop in temperature; even Echo had stopped her playful nuzzling, tail gone still. It was very clear, however, that Nomia hadn’t the nerve to out her fellow handmaiden, so Artemis looked back at Callisto. The nymph also had her eyes fixed elsewhere, back to shuffling the deck of cards that had recently been discarded. 

“Callisto.” The nymph hesitantly glanced up, and then licked her pale pink lips. “Where is she?”

“My lady—”

“You tell me this instant, or your punishment shall be worse than hers,” Artemis threatened. She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her being; it was a sign that she already knew what Aora was doing, and now it was only a matter of discerning where. “Now, Callisto.”

“She’s in our room,” the nymph muttered, shooting her a look tentatively. Artemis rose, jaw set and eyes blazing, and marched back toward the palace. 

She paid no mind to servants or noblemen as she went, and she was sure the expression on her features indicated that she was in no mood to be stopped for idle conversation. Stairs were no obstacle, and Artemis flew down halls with such speed that it would put her steed to shame. It was no small feat, climbing to the tip-top of the tower that housed her handmaidens, but she needed to prove to herself that her worries had been for nothing. She needed a moment to refresh Aora’s loyalty – no matter how fleeting the moment may be. 

Anyone else might have knocked, or possibly even pressed an ear to the door, but Artemis had no qualms with barreling in unannounced. When she did, unfortunately, her worst fears were proven true; there was her Aora, stark naked and entangled around Fandral’s muscular frame on a small bed near the window. The dark-haired nymph gave a startled cry at Artemis’s arrival, and then hastily shoved the Asgardian away from her, scrambling for covering.

“What is this?” Artemis spat, eyes narrowing at her trembling servant. 

“I think it’s obviously a private moment,” Fandral started, but he ceased his flippant tone when Artemis turned a venomous gaze upon him. 

“Get out,” she hissed, pointing sharply toward the gaping door. “Get out this moment.”

“Now, my lady—”

“Out!” Her shriek echoed, no doubt, throughout the tower, and Fandral nearly tripped over himself in his haste to gather up his scattered clothing. She remained silent until he vanished, his footsteps barely a match for the pounding in her ears – her heart hammered with emotion. 

“Please,” Aora whispered, a sheet wrapped around her as she slid to the floor, a hand up imploringly. “Please, mercy, my lady—”

Her nostrils flared as she glared down at the nymph, a familiar sting in her eye; she hastily blinked back her tears. 

“You know my laws,” Artemis started, each word deliberate and heavy. “I ask so little of my girls, but you are to be chaste if you wish to stay in my service—”

“But I love him—”

“And what of your love for me?! Has it always meant so little to you?” 

The brunette let out a sob at the accusation, shaking her head vehemently. “My lady, you are my world!”

She crossed the room to the nymph’s pile of discarded clothing, and then snatched up her dress. Gripping the fabric so tightly she could feel her nails digging through it, she marched back toward the weeping woman and threw her dress at her. “I do not bend my rules for anyone, Aora.”

“Please!”

“You are no longer my servant,” Artemis informed her, her voice thick as her lip quivered. “You have broken my trust and my laws, and for that you are banished.”

“Don’t send me away,” Aora begged weakly, the sheet falling to the side as she rose up on her knees. “Let me prove my love for you… Please, give me another chance.”

“Get dressed.”

“My lady—”

“Get dressed, or I shall drag you through this palace as you are!” she shouted. “You are no longer welcome in Asgard… You’ll return to Earth, and I pray that someone bothers to take you up to Olympus. Earth is no longer a realm welcoming of nymphs and your ilk!” 

She watched the nymph shakily lift the dress over her head, finally covering her nudity. However, she remained seated on the floor, and made no attempt to even start gathering her things. 

“I’ll not leave you,” Aora whimpered, shaking her head and clinging to the foot of her bed. “I want to stay… I won’t leave you here alone.”

She scoffed and threw her hands up angrily. 

“Perhaps,” Artemis sneered, “that thought might have crossed your head before you let the warrior in your bed!”

“I was a fool,” the nymph cried. She then crawled forward, reaching tentatively for the lengthy skirt of Artemis’s dress. “I was mistaken… No man can ever mean more to me than you. You are my family, my sister—”

“You are my servant,” Artemis clarified, pushing her hands away. The shock and hurt registered plainly across the brunette’s face, and Artemis felt her chest tighten. “You are my servant, and you have broken my rule… and now you are no longer my servant.”

“No—”

Before she could get another word out, Artemis slapped her, palm stinging on contact, and then quickly turned away. She forced her eyes shut and planted her hands on her hips, silently instructing herself to take even breaths. 

“Send me not from Asgard, my lady,” Aora whispered, her voice cracking under the obvious sorrow. “Let me stay and prove that I can one day be worthy again…”

Artemis shook her head, unable to speak without letting her sadness out. Instead, she turned back and grabbed the woman by the forearm, and then hauled her to her feet. 

“There is no place in Asgard for you anymore,” she managed to utter as she dragged the nymph toward the door. 

The tearful protests Aora cried as she marched her through the palace were probably the most painful of all, and she had to stop several times to readjust her grip on the squirming woman. Anyone they passed merely stopped to stare at the scene unfolding, but Artemis certainly did not linger enough to give them a show. She had no desire to make a spectacle out of Aora; she merely wanted to get her out of there as quickly and efficiently as possible, and if the nymph saw fit to create a scene, then that was her doing. 

The march along the Bifrost Bridge, she quickly realized, had to be the most difficult part of the entire ordeal. Artemis could see their future approaching, their time together dwindling with each step she took toward Heimdall. 

What a terrible burden to live by one’s word. 

Aora’s pleading grew quite painful as they approached the end of the bridge, and Artemis wiped a few fat tears away as they streamed down her cheek. The Keeper of the Realm met them at the entrance of his little gold dome, his amber eyes hard as he stared her down. 

“You know why I am here?” she demanded, thrusting Aora forward. The woman fell to her knees, sobbing, and curled up at Artemis’s feet. 

“I should wait for the All-father before sending any resident of Asgard to Earth,” the man replied, his voice much deeper than Artemis remembered. She sucked in her cheeks, and then pointed a shaking finger down at her former servant. 

“She is no resident of Asgard,” she snapped. “She is no longer my servant, and therefore has no reason to be in this realm. Send her home.”

“My lady, please,” Aora whined, clinging to her ankles desperately. “I’m sorry!”

Artemis stepped out of the nymph’s grasp, holding her skirts up just enough so that there was nothing left for her to grasp. Her eyebrows rose challengingly when she met Heimdall’s gaze, and for a moment, she expected him to raise more objections. Instead, he crouched down and gently took Aora by the shoulders. 

“Come now, little nymph—”

“No!” Aora screeched. “No, take your hands off of me! My lady, how could you send me away?”

“How could I send you away?” Artemis demanded. “I should have left you to my brother and spared myself the heartache of your betrayal!”

The nymph covered her face as she wailed, and Artemis finally turned away for the last time. She trusted Heimdall would see to her wishes and send Aora far from Asgard. The sounds of anguish faded the further she marched from it, and once she was a third of the way back to the mainland, she couldn’t even hear Aora any longer.

Much to her ire, she found Fandral waiting at the foot of the bridge, pacing back and forth across the worn paths. Artemis pointedly ignored him as she passed. 

“You needn’t have sent her away.”

She paused mid-stride, hands balling into fists, and then whirled back to face him. 

“You will never speak to me of her again,” Artemis snarled. “Do you understand me? To you she may have been a pair of legs to crawl between when the need struck, but to me she was a piece of my heart…” She swallowed thickly, blinking away her tears. “And now she’s gone.”

“There’s no crime in passion—”

“There is a crime in going back on an oath taken,” she shouted. “What good is my word if I do not uphold it?” 

He looked as though he had more to say, but both held their tongues when the telltale sign of travel illuminated the end of the bridge. She stared at it for a long moment, the skies alight with colour and noise, and then suddenly it was finished: empty and soulless. Aora was gone for good. 

Her lip wobbled at the realization, and she hurried back toward the palace without another word, barricading herself in her chambers for the rest of the evening. She sent away all form of company, be it Loki or otherwise, and refused to take another meal until the following evening. She wanted the misery – she wanted to feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh ANGST AND DESPAIR.


	19. Where do you fit, anyway?

The week without Aora had been miserable. It wasn’t as though Callisto and Nomia were poor replacements for her lost handmaiden and friend, but something certainly felt off about their group without the brunette nymph there. No matter who reasoned with her, be it Thor or Loki, Artemis stayed resolute on her decision, even if it broke her heart. Aora had broken the first rule she swore to uphold as a servant of Artemis – chastity. She held her girls to those rules so that they could stay focused when they were with her, and so that there would be no sudden absences because of a man. 

Now, should they choose to be with a man, Artemis would freely let them leave – she was not opposed to love. Sexual promiscuity with more than one man at a time made her a little iffy, and secret affairs simply made her irate. Aora may have only done the latter, but it was the final straw; Artemis had been fairly aware of her flirtations with Fandral, but she had hoped the nymph would leave it at that. After all, her three girls were the only glimmer of home and normalcy that she had left, and that shining beacon would dwindle should they leave – or become banished. It would have been so simple to overlook Aora’s disloyalty, but what good would her word be if she did? What was the point in creating stringent rules if they could be broken on a whim?

What would the others think if Aora could have a man and they must stay chaste? She knew Nomia would happily take a husband one day, and she would prefer to do it in the prime of her youth. However, the human remained resolutely faithful to the guidelines the Olympian goddess had set, and for that she would be rewarded when she finally left the hunting group. After all, even with Artemis’s gift of extended life, Nomia would age, and soon the hunt would be too strenuous; Artemis did not want the girl to grow old alone. 

In fact, she had no desire for anyone to die without a companion in their lives. She had hoped, naively, that their duties to her and the other handmaidens of the Moon Goddess would be enough to keep most of her girls happy. Apparently, Aora needed more – perhaps it was the thrill of the secret? Artemis had spent several nights awake wondering what she had done to drive Aora into the arms of a man, particularly when the nymph was one of her closest companions of her extensive hunting party. She could always call for another girl to replace her, as there were dozens more back on Olympus who had been disappointed not to earn an invite to her new life, but it felt as though that would insult Aora’s memory. 

So, she decided to be satisfied with two handmaidens, and hoped that there would be no repeats of the unfortunate incident. Thor didn’t understand. He considered the infraction too miniscule to send Aora back to Earth alone, but Artemis had grown weary of explaining her reasoning. Loki had only asked once, and did not bring it up again; if only her betrothed had such tact. 

Her lover also seemed mindful enough to know that she was in no mood for company after the incident; she had yet to invite him back to her bed, but now it was because she spent her nights wallowing. He seemed mildly irritated at her blatant refusals, but Artemis simply didn’t care. They saw one another several times over the course of the day, and if she needed her nights to feel pathetic, she would take them without his companionship. Secret glances and shared smiles were sometimes enough to get her through the day. 

However, that day in particular had no shared anything between Artemis and Loki, as her lover and her intended had been sent off into the city for an errand that lasted the duration of the day. So, after her short lesson with Frigga on queenly dinner manners, Artemis took her girls and Echo down to the pools for yet another aimless day of relaxation. 

As much as she enjoyed having absolutely no weight on her shoulders at the moment, days filled with lounging and napping were starting to get under her skin. Artemis was an active woman; if she wasn’t on the hunt, she was exploring a new territory. There was so much of Asgard that she would have loved to see, and yet for all the months she had been there, she was either confined to the palace, wandering the same hunting grounds in the nearby forestry, or forced to sneak out under the cover of night. So, as much as she had spent the last week sucked down in misery over Aora’s forced departure, Artemis was also growing increasingly bored – which left her frustrated. Callisto and Nomia could read her pent-up emotions, though they knew when and how to address them. 

Callisto made the suggestion of taking to the city streets sometime in the following week – simply leaving without announcing it. At least it would be a change of scenery. Artemis had reluctantly agreed to the idea, leaving her girls with the task of finding her something to do aside from purposeless wandering of the gold-plated Asgardian streets, which they seemed to relish. 

With Thor and Loki absent, Artemis joined Odin and Frigga for their evening meal alone. The conversations were less lively with the men missing, but Artemis was pleased that she no longer felt uncomfortable in the presence of the king and queen. Odin even pressed her for tales about some of her best hunts over the centuries, and confessed that in his youth, he was something of an amateur hunter himself. The thought pleased her, lifting the temporary cloud of grey hovering around her head, and she offered to take him out sometime to see if he still had a knack for the hunt. He might have been aging in the face, but she was sure the All-father had a spritely spirit in there somewhere. 

Besides, once she and Thor were the new monarchs, the old Asgardian would certainly have more free time on his hands. 

Once she had finished with dinner, Artemis even sat through dessert in the gardens with Frigga and a few other noblewomen. This time, however, she was permitted to invite Callisto and Nomia to sit by her side for the duration of the pastries and lukewarm tea. When it seemed all forms of relevant conversation had been exhausted, Artemis politely excused herself for the evening, and retreated up to her room for what she anticipated to be another night of regrets and contemplation. 

However, as she drew a towel around her body and her bathwater spiraled down into the drain of the pristine tub, she heard her door shut softly. A slight frown touched her lips, and she peered around the corner of the nearby wall, through the open doorway that connected her bathroom to her bedroom, and spotted Loki; she sighed moodily. 

In a way, she should have been grateful he took the time to sneak into her chambers, particularly when he knew it was unlikely she would invite him into her bed, but she simply couldn’t find the energy to do so. Instead, she knotted the thick towel around her body, removed the pins that held her blond tresses in place, and then sauntered into her bedroom. 

“That was a long errand,” she commented half-heartedly, some sort of smile on her lips when he turned to face her. “I can’t imagine what would keep you in the city for the entire day.” 

“We had a fitting,” he explained, his words clipped and lips set in a stony expression. “I watched people fawn all day over my brother…”

“A fitting for what?”

“For his crown,” Loki remarked irritably, knocking over one of her bottles of creams on her vanity – clearly in the throes of a fit, “and his robes for his first appearance to the people, for everything.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched him fiddle with whatever else he could find on the recently polished countertop, his gaze still quite hard. “And you?”

“What?”

“What did you get fitted for?” she clarified. The question seemed to cause some sort of offense, though the flicker of emotion passed so quickly across his features that Artemis couldn’t be sure what she had seen. 

“Father says, that if I am lucky, I will be appointed as Advisor to the King,” he told her. It was then that he finally turned to face her properly, arms folded across his chest. “So, for a fleeting moment, they saw to my robes.”

“You spent the entire day there for the sake of one outfit?” Loki scoffed noisily at the question, and she arched an eyebrow, unimpressed with his attitude. “Why didn’t you simply walk out? I assume your legs work?”

“I was there for support.”

“Your brother is a grown man now—”

“I don’t want to discuss it anymore,” he snapped, waving off the conversation with a sweep of his hand. “I don’t want to talk about anything anymore.”

“Then why are you here?” She raised her eyebrows once more, head cocked slightly to the side as she waited for a response. If he had no desire to speak with her, then why bother coming up to visit at all? Unless he simply wanted to sit and watch her read, she might as well send him on his way now. 

He offered up no response, and just as she was about to say the words that neither of them wanted to hear, he strode forward and pressed his lips firmly to hers. A shocked puff of air escaped from her nostrils, her hands caught between their bodies, and Artemis groaned loudly as he dragged her in closer by her upper arms. The kiss was hard, lips against lips, and when she glared up at him, she saw that he had his eyes closed tightly, eyebrows in a furrow. 

“Enough,” she hissed when she finally managed to break their contact, wrenching her head to the side and glaring up at him. “I’m in no mood for this tonight.”

“Nor any other night, it seems.”

Loki grunted softly when she thrust her knee upward, but he managed to block her with a slight turn of his body. Her wrists were caught next as they flew up to shove him away; her eyes narrowed. 

“I have every right to—”

“It’s not always at your behest that we meet,” he spat, which caused her to falter. Artemis blinked up at him, some of the tension easing out of her limbs, but it only seemed to make him grasp harder. “Perhaps sometimes I… require…”

He trailed off, lips pressed firmly together and a strain quite evident in the tendons of his throat. She quickly took in his appearance, nothing the lines of stress along his forehead, the anger in his eyes. Perhaps he was right; perhaps she couldn’t always be selfish with him. Artemis swallowed thickly, and then licked her lips, careful to keep any sort of annoyance out of her tone. 

“Release me.” 

He glanced down at her once more, but she held her ground in silence. After a moment had passed, he finally released her, and she was able to step around him unhindered. From there, she crossed the room and blew out the trio of candles that illuminated the entrance to her bath, and then to the other side to tend to the ones that sat on her window ledge. When she had finished, she turned back to face him, allowing her towel to drop. As she kicked it aside, there was a fleeting moment of hyper self-awareness, as though her every imperfection were on display for him in the moonlight. 

However, as he descended upon her, all teeth and nails and sharpness, her flaws were forgotten. He pushed her back against the wall, hands everywhere and mouth listlessly domineering over hers. Her fingers made a poor attempt to undo his trousers, thinking that perhaps he wished to take her against the wall, and tried to keep her breathing quiet as he trailed his lips down her neck. However, when he clamped down – hard – on her shoulder, she cried out, but soon found a steady hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. He then bit her again, sucking at the stinging flesh as she squealed. 

And then he was off her. Artemis found herself flung across the room, and she scrambled to stand before he shoved her once more toward her bed. She crawled on willingly, rolling onto her back and propping herself up on her elbows to receive him; it was clear he was in no mood for pleasantries before the act itself. Her eyes followed his hands, which went to the drawstring of his black trousers and then to her knees. They slid down her thighs, leaving a trail of little bumps behind them. However, when they reached her hips, they took hold firmly in a way that was unexpected, and before she could get a word in edgewise, he had rolled her onto her stomach. 

He then hoisted her up so that she sat on all fours, and her eyes widened a little at the audacity of his actions, particularly when she felt him nudge against her.

“Not like this,” Artemis hissed as she tried to straighten up. She would give him what he desired because she understood jealousy and an inner fire more than others might, but certainly not like this. “I’m not some serving girl—”

“No, you’re not.” He pushed her down forcefully, and her hands fisted in bed linens as he wrenched her head back by the base of her hair. “You are the daughter of Zeus, a goddess of Olympus. You are intended for my brother, destined to be the queen.” Then, without warning, he thrust into her completely, and she clenched her eyes shut as she cried out again, this time somewhat breathlessly. “But tonight, you’re mine… all mine, Artemis of Olympus.”

There was some pain, yes, but it was not unbearable; the rasp in his voice as he whispered awful, terrible things about what he had wished to do to her in her ear was enough to take the edge off, to make her body clench pleasurably. His pace was relentless, and the tips of his fingers were bound to leave bruises that lasted longer than any he had given her in the past. He hovered over her, his clothing a soft reminder of their state of inequality. A hand occasionally drifted up to take her throat, his words unending and rash. When they hitched in his throat, those horrible words of his, it was then he found a pleasurable end, groaning noisily in her ear. 

Their coupling had been brief, but given the time it had been since they were last together and his mood that night, it only made sense. She winced when he pulled away from her, and then shifted to the head of her bed, turning to rest against the backboard. Loki, meanwhile, remained at the end of the bed, kneeling in place and head down. When her eyes found his hands once more, she saw them trembling quite noticeably, and when she glanced up at him, he looked away. 

“Loki.”

She spoke his name without a question to her tone, but merely as a response to the state she now found him in. He was a complicated man, her lover. Green eyes eventually met hers, and despite the ache now starting in her hips, she beckoned him closer. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but he soon crawled to her, wrapping his clothed limbs around her and resting his head on her chest. 

“May I stay tonight?” he whispered, tracing the marks he had left on her right shoulder tentatively. Artemis resisted the urge to sigh, and instead ran her fingers through his soft hair as soothingly as she could. 

“Yes.” She felt him relax against her, and while his comfort did not exactly brighten her mood, there was something about it that made her also feel at ease. “My girls will be here one hour after sunrise… You must be gone by then.”

“I know.” The prince placed a few apologetic kisses against her breast. “I’m sorry.”

Artemis closed her eyes, and when she felt him shift upward, his lips pressing weakly to hers, she tightened her grip in his hair and permitted him to linger.

* * *

Loki knew his mother liked to think she was terribly clever with surprises. By now, all the men in her life knew when she was up to something; she was all smiles and vague answers, eyebrows raised to the ceiling and whatnot. However, Artemis wasn’t schooled enough in Frigga’s deception, so when his mother told his lover that they were greeting an ambassador from another kingdom that afternoon in the palace courtyard, Loki knew she had done something. So, after they had eaten – he giving Artemis a careful distance after their night together – and dispersed for the morning, he dragged Thor aside and demanded to know what the fuss was about. 

Apparently, his mother had noticed Artemis’s downtrodden mood as of late, and desired to do something to add some cheer to her life. So, although Artemis would think that their elegant reception in the palace courtyard that afternoon would be for some noble that no one really cared about, it would really be for her brother. Initially, Loki was surprised that Frigga would go to such lengths; even if Artemis was to be her daughter-in-law, it wasn’t like the woman to reach out beyond the realm to make contacts. However, apparently Thor had been the one commenting incessantly on his intended’s poor moods as of late, and asked their mother for help as to how he might fix it. 

It irked Loki that he hadn’t even been consulted on such matters. No one knew the intimacy of his relationship with the Olympian, but to the public it must have been quite clear they were good friends – at the very least. When he questioned his brother as to why no one had informed him, the hulking man merely shrugged and insisted that they worried he may give it away before the game was afoot. 

Loki give it away? The Master of Lies? He scoffed at the idea. However, no matter his feelings on the issue of exclusion, he still dressed in some of his finest attire and joined the rest of his family – and a few members of the royal court – in the palace square to receive their guest. He knew nothing about Apollo of Olympus aside from the fact that Artemis was his twin, and that she was exceptionally fond of him. Perhaps this would boost her spirits after the loss of her handmaiden; that seemed to be a particularly sensitive issue these days. 

Although the air might have been cool, the sun beat down with all its fury, making his armor slightly uncomfortable. He stood at his mother’s side, and she next to his father. Thor, naturally, fell to the right of the All-father, and Artemis remained at his side with her duo of handmaidens. She looked especially lovely that afternoon, dressed in a deep red Asgardian dress – no doubt one of Thor’s many gifts as of late.

Apparently he thought material goods would make her happy. 

However, when Loki spared another glance down the line toward his lover, careful to ensure that no one was watching, he realized why she had chosen such a garment: it successfully covered her shoulder. He breathed a small sigh of relief; she had only picked it to keep the marks he had left on her skin hidden. Good. They certainly weren’t for the rest of the realm to ogle at, particularly when she was supposed to be a virginal bride for his brother. 

He straightened at the sound of horns, as did all the members of his party. There were traditional ways to greet a guest at the palace, ways that Artemis had no doubt been tutored in, and perhaps this was not only a surprise, but a test. He shot a sidelong glance at his mother, hoping that she would simply allow his lover to have her moment without scrutinizing her actions. She may have come a long way, but Artemis certainly wasn’t ready to be a proper lady just yet. 

The gates opened noisily, as they always did, but rather than welcoming in a massive procession of people, there was only a single man escorted by a duo of guards. Loki tried to maintain his stoic expression, but it was somewhat difficult when he glanced down at Artemis and witnessed her slight frown. 

“Oh, it’s Apollo!”

It was the little human handmaiden – Nomia? – who spoke out of turn, but no one saw fit to chastise her. Instead, Artemis broke off into a run, dashing across the courtyard and into the arms of the tall, blond man who greeted her with equal enthusiasm. Loki’s smile grew as she leapt upon him, arms around his neck and legs lifted from the ground as he spun her. He heard his father chuckle, and the tension within the group seemed to fade. While her reaction certainly hadn’t been what she ought to do as Asgardian nobility, it seemed acceptable in the given circumstances. 

Their interactions were playful. Once her brother had set her down, the Olympian leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to her cheek, and Artemis shoved him away, face alight with mirth and laughter. It was the happiest he had seen her in… well, ever. He swallowed thickly; Loki had never been able to make her that happy. In all these months of trying, his efforts were outshone in a matter of moments. He scrutinized the man as he approached: lean, curly blond hair, clad in a white tunic and amber cape with the mark of the sun on each corner. They looked remarkably alike – how could they not? They were twins, after all. 

They walked hand-in-hand back to the awaiting cluster, and Loki could hear the handmaidens’ heated whispers from across the way. 

“Although I’m sure he hardly needs an introduction,” Artemis remarked upon approach, her smile unending, “but allow me to present Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto.” She shot the man an affectionate look, and Loki noticed her squeeze his hand as the All-father waited patiently. “God of music, poetry, plague, oracles, sun, medicine, light and knowledge… and my baby brother.”

The Olympian frowned dramatically, and then quirked an eyebrow. “A two-minute delay of my arrival in this world does not constitute such a title, Sister.” Her eyes narrowed, and he nudged her a little, turning back to address the Asgardians. “I must thank you for your hospitality… and your invitation.”

Frigga smiled knowingly as he dipped his head toward her, and Loki waited for Artemis to spare him a glance. However, she seemed unable to look away from her brother. 

“May I also present,” she continued, finally gesturing to his father, “Odin, ruler of Asgard, and his wife, Lady Frigga.” Apollo bowed a little lower this time, sweeping and dramatic in a way that was so unlike his sister. He also took a step forward to take Frigga’s hand, placing a chaste kiss on the top as she grinned. “Prince Loki.” The men exchanged little nods, but even then she hadn’t looked at him. “And my intended, Prince Thor of Asgard.”

“You’re a big one, aren’t you?” Apollo commented, head cocked to the side as he surveyed Loki’s brother with obvious scrutiny. “I’m sure we’ll have many discussions while I’m here.”

“I look forward to it,” Thor remarked, though Loki could easily detect the false enthusiasm in the man’s voice. 

“Oh, and there are my little girls,” Apollo continued, moving on from Thor quickly to the handmaidens. He touched them each by the cheek, pressing kisses to their foreheads. “You appear to be one short, Sister.” 

“Yes,” Artemis remarked tightly. “I am.”

“Why don’t you give your brother the grand tour?” his mother suggested, cutting off the new arrival before he could get another word in on the subject. “We’ll take supper in the gardens tonight.”

“Oh, I do love a good garden party,” Apollo cooed. The man laughed when Artemis pinched him, and Loki tried to catch her eye before she disappeared. However, in that moment, she was lost to him, and didn’t bother to spare him a glance for the rest of the day.


	20. This or That

For the first time in a very long time, Artemis slept well beyond the rising sun. It seemed her body needed the time to recuperate after such a rambunctious night, and when she finally stirred long enough to stay awake, she still felt as though a few more hours could do. However, the thought of Apollo sleeping only one room over caused her to leap from her bed hurriedly, and once she threw a dressing gown over her nudity and tended to her morning necessities, she was out the door and down the hall. 

She had witnessed a number of celebrations since she arrived in Asgard – it seemed that there was an occasion to host a night of drinking and eating almost every week. However, she hadn’t enjoyed any of them half as much as she did last night, and she was fairly certain she had Frigga to thank for that. The surprise of her brother’s arrival was enough to bring her to joyous tears; a weight had been lifted at the sight of his blond curls beneath the Asgardian sun. Artemis had not anticipated, however, that the royal family would throw such a grand celebration to welcome the arrival of a foreign Olympian, nor did she anticipate they would dedicate most of their day to conversing with her brother. 

In fact, now that she thought about it, they had barely had a moment alone together since he arrived. For the first time, Artemis was well at ease with Odin, Frigga, Thor, and Loki. She hadn’t felt uncomfortable as of late, but with Apollo chuckling at her side, she felt as though she could be herself without any of the usual judgement that came with such a persona. It seemed Odin’s friendship with her father won out over everything, and after the family had an afternoon pint in the gardens (the first time Artemis consumed alcohol during the day since she arrived), Apollo was given a grand tour of the palace with the entire family in tow. Afterward, they ate a feast in the banquet hall, accompanied by the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, and a variety of other noblemen and women. 

Apollo handled himself wonderfully. Out of the two of them, he was the twin who was made for showmanship and socializing. He laughed at the right moments, poked gentle fun at Artemis and Thor, and regaled the royal family with countless amusing anecdotes from their childhood. Her brother, as always, was a better representative of her family than Artemis could ever be, and she was grateful for his presence. He had lifted her spirits in a way that no one else could – hence why she drank, danced, and laughed more so last night than she had since she arrived in Asgard. She was also highly inclusive of everyone: Thor warranted a dance, Fandral was included in her stories, and Loki was certainly not forgotten. A part of her was proud of the way she had acted, because she had come out of her shell for the royal family to see at last. 

Now, whether she could sustain such energy once Apollo left was something else entirely, and it was a topic she preferred not to dwell upon. Hopefully, when she was queen, she could order her brother to live with her permanently, and she knew then she would never be unhappy. Thor could tend to her as a husband and king should. Loki could provide her with the true companionship that her heart desired. Apollo could make her feel whole. It was the perfect combination of men. Though, to balance that out, she would need to expand her handmaiden party, but that was a matter for another time. 

Apollo had been the life of the party; he played his lyre, drank anything put in his cup, and removed all forms of awkwardness between himself and Thor almost immediately. As always, Apollo was perfect. However, true to form, her brother had wanted to bring a girl back to his room when the festivities started to wind down, but Artemis shooed the nobleman’s daughter away drunkenly. Not only did she not want Apollo distracted during his visit to see her, she didn’t want to have to throw the girl out first thing in the morning upon arrival.

She paused in front of his door, a hand on the polished knob, and then leaned in closer to see if she could hear any sort of movement inside. When she heard nothing but silence, the Olympian grinned brightly and threw the door open with gusto. She found her brother tangled up in his sheets, completely nude and arse out for the world to see; he groaned when she slammed the door. 

“It’s too early,” he moaned. Artemis let out a laugh as she pranced across the room – which was arranged quite similarly to hers – and then leapt upon him. 

“Nonsense,” she admonished, rolling him over and tossing the bed sheet across his nudity. “It’s far later than we should be in bed… but it doesn’t seem like anyone else is awake either.”

“Asgardians can drink,” her brother muttered as he rubbed his eyes, which were laden with temporary bags and shadows. “They would certainly put Uncle Dionysus to shame.”

“No, merely give him some competition.” She smirked at his chuckle of agreement, and she then settled down next to him, one hand behind her head and the other quickly finding his hand. “I’m glad you are here.”

He sighed noisily as he continued to rub the sleep from his eye, but eventually rolled onto his side to grin at her, holding their joined hands close to his chest. “As am I. I’ve missed you terribly.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the top of his hand, which was warm and comforting. Few could ever understand how close she was to Apollo; Loki and Thor were siblings, but they had never displayed the kind of affection she would bestow upon her twin. The man who lay next to her was a part of her being, and she had no problems displaying her adoration for him in any manner that she saw fit. Naturally, she would need to keep the physical intimacy of their love in private: the new Queen of Asgard could not have rumors swirling that she was having an affair with her brother and the king’s brother. 

“Tell me of home,” she ordered after a moment of peaceful silence. “Have I missed anything?”

“Well, Aphrodite is pregnant,” Apollo told her, and her eyes widened. “You should see how fat she’s gotten… It’s… lovely—”

“Oh, terrible boy!” She swatted at his arm amidst her giggles; the sight of a round Aphrodite was actually quite amusing. Artemis wished she could have seen her sister pregnant – that image would be enough to brighten any day. “Is she pleased? Is it her husband’s?”

“None of us can be sure who it belongs to,” he told her in hushed tones, eyebrows wiggling in delight, “but she seems pleased… It must not belong to Hephaestus.” He paused for a moment, deep in contemplation. “I suspect Ares… They have been spending much time together lately, and you know he can barely tolerate her as a person normally.”

“I can barely tolerate her as a person,” she muttered, running a hand through her tatty blonde hair and sighing, “but I like Ares even less… I hope he isn’t the father.”

“Well, you won’t really have to care for the child much, will you?” She looked at Apollo sharply, eyebrows furrowing. “I mean, you’re so far away…”

Artemis swallowed thickly, and then adjusted herself so that she could face the ceiling. “I hate being so far from home.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she replied insistently, her grip tightening on his hand. “I have grown comfortable in Asgard, but it does not feel like home yet… I am merely a visitor who will one day rule everything. I don’t… I don’t know how to be a queen.”

“I don’t think you should be a queen.”

She would have been insulted had anyone else offered up such a comment, but when it came from her brother, she knew it was completely genuine. 

“I don’t know why father chose me for this,” she admitted, her voice very small. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the look he shot her, and she huffed irritably. “I mean, I know, in theory, why I was the only daughter he could send…”

“This is such a depressing subject,” Apollo groaned, cutting her off noisily. He threw his hands up in the air, eyes pressed shut and face wrinkled. “I’ll hear no more of it!”

“Fine,” she laughed as she poked at his side, which made him twitch. “Find a more suitable subject matter for us!”

He fought back quickly, attacking her sensitive spots around her waist and stomach, and the pair collapsed in a fit of giggles as though they were children again. It was only when they settled that they heard the tentative taps at the bedchamber’s door, and Artemis raised a curious eyebrow at her brother. The man cleared his throat and sat up, golden curls completely astray, and then bellowed dramatically for whoever might be there to enter. She smiled, suddenly feeling quite relieved when she saw Callisto’s put-together head poke in through the doorway. 

“Are you both decent?” she inquired playfully, her eyes cast down to the floor. Artemis caught a flash of wild red hair over her shoulder; Nomia was there too. “We’ve brought some breakfast.”

“Are we ever decent?” Apollo remarked as Artemis waved the duo in. Both had a tray of food in hand, and despite the fact she had consumed far too much ale the night before, Artemis’s stomach gave a triumphant roar at the thought of eating more food. 

“How did you know I would be here?” Artemis asked as her servants each set a tray down at the end of the bed. Callisto caught her eye and smirked. 

“Where else would you be?”

“Top notch investigating skills, my dearest Callisto,” Apollo chirped. He then lurched forward to crawl out of bed, and Nomia’s cheeks darkened when her eyes inadvertently darted down at his nude form. “Nomia, my sweet!”

Artemis held in her laughter when he kissed the little human on the cheek, which only managed to turn her cheeks even rosier. Callisto tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and shot Apollo a mildly unimpressed look, which caused her brother to blow the nymph a kiss, and Artemis shook her head as he disappeared into the bathing suite. 

“It was such a nice gesture of the queen to bring him here,” Nomia squeaked once they were alone, her face still quite red. “I’m very happy for you, my lady.”

“Yes, I ought to find a way to thank Frigga for all of this.” She leaned forward and pulled a hefty helping of broiled meats from her plate. Callisto saw to filling both pristine glasses with some orange liquid that Artemis was especially fond of, and she chewed thoughtfully – it had only just occurred to her that she ought to return Frigga’s gesture of kindness. “What should I do?”

“Nothing can equal this,” Nomia insisted. 

“Perhaps a son?” Artemis turned her gaze sharply toward Callisto before the words registered in the nymph’s mind, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry, my lady—”

“It’s forgotten,” she muttered tersely, taking another bite of her meat and drawing her knees up to her chest. “I cannot think of anything I could find for Frigga that she could not manage on her own.”

The woman was Asgard’s queen, after all. 

“Maybe something Olympian?” Callisto suggested, no doubt trying to redeem herself from her previous folly. “Or something from the market that she would not think to buy for herself?”

“Hmm.” She heard Apollo finishing up in the bathing room nearby, and then shook her head. “Why don’t you take the day to yourselves and explore the markets? All of the markets.” Nomia’s smile brightened at the thought. “Ask the Coin Master to give you an advance, and should you find something suitable for the queen, ask them to hold it for me. I’ll take Apollo there tomorrow to look for myself…”

“Where is Apollo being taken?” her brother mused as he sauntered back into the room. Both of her girls averted their gaze once more, and Artemis merely shot him a narrowed look: he had tormented them long enough. 

“We were discussing the prospects of paying the queen back for bringing you here,” she informed him, shifting to the side to give him more room on the bed. “I cannot think of a thing she would want.”

“Ah, that’s the trick with gifts,” Apollo sighed as he reached for his drink and took a large swig. “It’s about getting them what they think they do not want…” 

“That’s a horrible way to find someone a gift,” Artemis admonished, rolling her eyes when her brother shrugged. She turned her attention back to the girls. “Do not use his tactic to find a gift.” They both nodded, gazes still wandering the room. “When you’ve finished, you can have the rest of the day to yourself. I’ll be with Apollo until bed tonight.”

Both girls nodded, and then made a swift exit when Artemis’s eyes flickered toward the door. When they were finally alone, Apollo had the decency to cover himself, though he did so in such a cheery manner that it made Artemis grin. He so loved to torment her handmaidens, though he was never especially cruel about it. As always, her twin was the only person she let touch her girls – he knew better than to actually touch them. 

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were one handmaiden short,” he noted as they dug into their hearty breakfasts. “Where is the dark nymph?”

She took a long moment to chew her food, and Apollo turned away when he saw the deliberateness in her actions. 

“I found her with one of Thor’s warriors,” she said simply, “and she was relieved of her duties.”

“I’m sorry, sister.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted with a scoff. “It was clear her priorities were elsewhere. I am glad to be rid of her.”

Artemis could feel him give her a hard stare, but she pointedly ignored it. Aora was yet another topic that she had no desire to discuss on such a happy occasion. She popped a small purple fruit in her mouth, pleased with its ripened state, and then changed the subject. 

“What do you think of Thor?”

“He’s no one I would have paired you with,” Apollo remarked almost immediately. He leaned back against the wall, his feet wriggling beneath her under the sheet. “He’s brass and proud, somewhat uncouth and seems reckless in nature… He is a warrior though.” She turned to look at him, her chewing slowed. “He will lead men to victories for centuries to come. He will give you happy and spoiled little children.” He paused for a moment, his tone somewhat unhappy. “He will cherish you when he comes to love you… I have no doubt of that.”

Artemis swallowed thickly; it certainly wasn’t the answer she wanted, but she couldn’t muster the words to argue with him. In her brother’s eyes, Thor wasn’t perfect, but his positive attributes outweighed the negative. “Oh.”

“Do not think my acceptance of him is a blessing on this marriage,” he said sharply, nudging her with his toes. “I would give anything to have you returned to me… unwed and free.” She licked her lips and continued to eat, unable to meet his gaze. “But, for once, I understand our father’s ways… The Titans are stirring.”

“I know—” 

“No, you don’t,” he argued. She flinched when he took her by the chin, his grasp firm and demanding. “You are here in a realm far from the trouble… but I had to challenge Hyperion for dominion of the sun not one moon ago.” Her eyes narrowed – why had no one thought to tell her of this? “I only came out victorious because he was alone and Ares answered my call… But a Titan will not be alone forever.”

Artemis tugged her face away and set her bread back down on the nearby plate. “But—”

“Thor will fight for his wife’s family,” Apollo told her softly. “I am here to remind them… all of them that there is more to you than just your person. You have family that may one day be in peril, and when Thor becomes part of that family, I know he will not sit by idly.”

“No, I’m sure he will not,” Artemis ground out, shaking her head. “He enjoys battle and bloodshed… He will probably lead the charge.”

“Hmm.”

They fell into silence once more, though this time it was somewhat tenser than she would have liked. Artemis continued to pick at her breakfast, unhappy with the way her brother’s gaze lingered, and she once again felt as though she ought to change the subject. 

“And what do you think of Loki?” The question came out before she could consider the consequences of it, but she knew she couldn’t take it back. So, Artemis tried to keep her expression light and interested. 

“Should I have an opinion of him?”

“Well, if Thor will one day be your brother, so will Loki,” Artemis argued weakly. “He was very kind to me when I first arrived… Instrumental to my settling in, actually.”

“Oh, was he?” She glanced at him, and then let out a nervous laugh when his expression changed. “Have you bedded him, sister?”

“Apollo!” She gave him a hard smack this time, one that lacked playfulness. “Don’t say such a thing!”

“Well, if you weren’t going to tell me, I merely needed to look at him,” her brother reasoned, his voice dropping to a noisy whisper. “You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks there are no eyes on him… I knew it within the first hour that he felt for you.” Her cheeks glowed a dull pink at the thought; she had always considered their public interactions to be quite chaste. “He looks to you to react to everything he does… Any jest he makes or story he tells, he is really only saying it for your benefit.”

“I know.”

“He loves you already.” The words made her shut her eyes, her stomach knotting unpleasantly. “Do you love him?” Her brother waited for a response, and when one refused to come, he pressed further. “Have you bedded him?”

That she could answer, and she did so with a nod. “Recently, we have started… to be together.”

“Artemis…” His sigh was not one of discontentment or judgement. Perhaps exasperation, but he certainly did not seem unhappy with her. “I cannot tell you what to do, and if he makes you happy… Be careful.”

“We are completely careful,” she argued, turning not to face him completely. “We only ever meet at night, and he knows all the passageways through the palace to arrive undetected.” Apollo looked less than impressed with her at the idea, and for some reason, she felt the need to defend her secret tryst. “He is very kind to me...”

“Is that why you do it?” he asked. “Because he is kind?”

“No-“

“Then what?” His eyebrows shot up as he appraised her. “I’ve never known you to arbitrarily seek the beds of men.”

“For comfort, I suppose,” she whispered. “For security and care and warmth… He’s not like other men.”

“Oh, I can assure you that we are all quite similar.” He offered a kind smile when she looked back at him, and then reached out to take her by the hand. “Don’t give your heart to him when you are promised to another.”

“I shouldn’t have to worry about such things,” she snapped, clinging to him. “I should be free to give my heart to whoever I please… or keep it to myself!”

“I agree, but you are not in such a fortunate situation anymore.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you love him?”

Artemis sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know… I don’t think I do. I feel something… sometimes. It’s beyond that of friendship.” Apollo nodded. “But I feel as though he cares for me so desperately that… sometimes it scares me.”

“It should,” he told her gravely. “Love makes fools of us all.”

A knock at the door threw Artemis off, silencing her with a startled gasp. For a moment, she half-expected the entirety of Asgard’s nobility to rush in and berate her for what she had just admitted to. She knew her worries were senseless, but she couldn’t quite figure out who would visit Apollo at this time of day. 

“Are your girls back already?”

“No, no, I doubt they would bother us again,” she told him, pushing more of the bed sheet onto him. “Cover your dignity, brother.”

He pouted at the command, and Artemis beckoned whoever might be on the other side to enter. For some reason, she pictured Thor or Loki standing on the other side, but when the door opened and a figure stepped in, she realized that thought was also wrong. He was different than any Asgardian Artemis had ever seen: tall, lithe, and completely bald save for a thin line of hair around the crown of his head. He was dressed in brown robes, thick and worn, and had the largest nose of any man she had ever seen. 

“My gracious lady,” the man greeted, bowing low with his arms outstretched. “Forgive my intrusion on this fine—”

“Who are you?” Artemis demanded. Apollo had wrapped the bed sheet around his waist by now, and his gaze hardened when he no doubt sensed the strain in his sister’s tone. “Why are you here?”

“I am Nan from Nornheim,” the fellow explained, taking a few steps forward, “and I am here on behalf of the Norns.”

“The Norns?”

“Oracles,” Apollo said before the new arrival could. “Some say they are sisters to the Fates.”

Artemis scoffed without meaning to: she had very little time or faith for the Fates. “Oh.”

“I am here to bring you to them,” Nan told them, and suddenly Apollo was on his feet at the end of the bed, shoulders back and hands fisted. “They have a prophecy to give… a warning to tell for the future Queen of Asgard.”

Artemis scrambled to the edge of the bed, holding her brother back with a steady hand. Her gaze, however, remained on the strange man before her. “What need have I of strange oracles when I have the God of Oracles for a brother?”

“A brother who will only see an Olympian future,” Nan insisted vaguely, his beady eyes drifting to Apollo. “His visions do not cater to Asgard.”

“Enough,” her brother snapped. “My sister is staying here, and you are to leave us at once.”

The man licked his lips, revealing a purplish tongue, and Artemis wrinkled her nose at him when he turned his stare back to her. He then extended a hand. “Come, Artemis, daughter of Zeus and Leto… It will only take a few days to spare the lives of all.”

“Out,” Artemis hissed as she rose to her feet, standing next to her twin with a glare. “I am staying here.”

The man pursed his lips and then reached into a pocket. “I do not wish to harm you, Moon Goddess.” His hand reappeared with a cloth in it, upon which there was a dark liquid. “But my mistresses will be most displeased if I return without you.”

He then lunged for her, but Apollo was faster. Her brother soon had the man trapped in a headlock, and Artemis darted around the pair to throw open the door. 

“Guards!” Her shouts echoed down the seemingly vacant corridor, but in a matter of moments four pairs of guardsmen rushed out of nowhere. “This man tried to attack us!”

They were upon him in a moment, and she pulled Apollo out of the way. Nan, to his credit, made no noise as he struggled for freedom, but he had managed to drop his soaked rag in Apollo’s room. As the guards carted the strange visitor away, Artemis went for the piece of cloth and tentatively sniffed it. The scent was unpleasant, but it was completely unfamiliar. 

“We are taking this to Odin.”

Her brother disappeared from sight in the doorway, and Artemis raced after him, cloth in hand. 

“Wait, you should dress first,” she ordered breathlessly, a thought barely given to her own state of undress. “It’ll only take a moment-“

“No!” he snapped, pulling his arm from her grasp and storming through the halls. “My sister was threatened and almost attacked in his palace, and I’ll not stand for it.”

“Apollo…” She huffed irritably as he hurried away from her; surely he would realize that he had absolutely no idea where he might find Odin at such a time, but perhaps she could let him come to that conclusion on his own. Something shifted in the shadows nearly, and she whirled around to face it, clenching the rag in her hand. Someone had already threatened her once today, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again. 

However, rather than some big-nosed intruder, Loki stepped out of the shadows, and she felt her shoulders slump. He stood before her, hands clasped behind his back, and then licked his lips. There needn’t be any words expressed between them. Artemis merely shook her head and then nodded in the direction that she had last seen Nan and the guards. He took a step toward her, but then turned sharply and rushed down the hall away from her. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath – she might love him. 

“Artemis!” Her brother’s voice roused her from the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she spied him and his bed linens standing at the end of the hall, which split into two directions. “Left or right?”

She swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.”


	21. Hush

Loki could feel her sadness: it radiated across the entire Bifrost, and yet no one else seemed to notice. After one very long week, it was finally time for Apollo to return to Olympus, and Loki knew that it absolutely destroyed Artemis to see him leave. 

His lover had been preoccupied with her brother every minute of every day that the man was in Asgard, and as happy as it made Loki to see her so content, he wished she would have given him a moment alone – he missed her. Her scent had disappeared from his sheets, and it seemed as though he could no longer remember what she felt like beneath him. Perhaps the latter was a touch too dramatic, but in a way that was truly the depth of how greatly he missed her company. She was there, wandering the palace and city and countryside with leisure, and yet in a way she wasn’t there. He wanted her back – Loki needed her back. 

With Thor’s coronation and wedding fast-approaching, Loki desired to spend every selfish moment he could with the beautiful Olympian who had enraptured him so. It did him no good to have her wander off every single day with her brother, completely unaware that Loki even existed. Yes, they had spoken over meals, and even participated in a harmless dance or two at the various celebrations his mother saw fit to host while Apollo was visiting, but it felt like there was some immense distance between them. A part of Loki feared that this was to be their fate once she married Thor: they would be together yet apart for an eternity, and there would be nothing he could do about it. 

So, when he awoke that morning, Loki was glad to be seeing Apollo off. The man had certainly been enjoyable, and Loki truly relished watching his brother struggle to find some common ground between them. Apollo was some strange entity that was neither completely masculine nor feminine, but an obscure mix of the two. He was a god of music and poetry, and yet told stories of such fierce battles that he may offer competition for Thor’s tales. He had been fairly kind to Loki too, opting to steer clear of the usual jokes that Thor and the Warriors Three threw about whenever Loki made the mistake of saying something wrong – it usually occurred when the rest had been drinking, and he had grown accustomed to it long ago. 

Still, as much as it pleased him to find another Olympian ally in the sea of repetitive jeers and jokes that encompassed Loki’s life, he wanted him gone. Their day had been full of laughter and boisterous stories from his father – as if the man hadn’t told enough while Apollo was visiting – but as night crept across the sky, Loki had sensed a change in Artemis. Her smile was less brilliant, and there was an obvious unhappiness in her eyes whenever she looked at her brother. She tried desperately to remain upbeat, but that did not keep her from holding her brother’s hand for their entire duration on the Bifrost’s rainbow bridge. 

To his credit, Apollo seemed amicable and friendly for the entire march, never once giving in to Artemis’s childish tugs away from the group. He kept her grounded, and Loki hoped that his lover wouldn’t fall into some sort of depression with the man gone. However, it was definitely time to leave, and he hovered near the rear of the group, eager to return to the palace for the night to console his lady in privacy. 

As expected, the large group came to a halt when they reached Heimdall, and the massive man had already situated himself atop the golden arch—ready for transport. Apollo addressed his father first, bowing dramatically low—much to the All-father’s outward delight—and then clasping his hand once the elderly Asgardian extended it to him. Loki watched him move onto his mother, whose hand the Olympian kissed sweetly, and then onward to Thor. They clasped forearms like warrior companions, though Loki knew it was more of a show for their families than anything else. By default, Apollo moved onto Artemis’s servant girls shortly after, each of whom earned a tender kiss on both cheeks, and Loki swore that the human blushed. Artemis would be last, naturally, so he was the only one of the group that the Olympian needed to bid farewell to. 

Much to his surprise, Loki found that the man saw fit to hug him. He blinked back his surprise and cautiously patted the man’s muscular back, his movements stiff and unnatural. 

“Take care of her,” Apollo murmured in his ear, squeezing tight and slapping his back. “My father will murder you both should he discover you.”

Loki schooled his features, completely stunned at the omission, and then forced some strange sort of smile when they broke apart. 

“Safe travels,” he managed, fully aware that both his father and brother watched the interaction with mild interest. Apollo gave him a grand smile in return and then slapped his arm. 

“I’m only half-joking,” the Olympian remarked quietly, winking for some sort of effect. “Farewell, Loki Odinson.”

He nodded in return, and the Olympian turned on his sandal-clad heel and marched toward his sister. Artemis linked arms with him, and Loki watched the pair carefully as they sauntered leisurely toward the Bifrost’s portal, speaking in hushed tones. 

What had she told him? Had she even told him anything at all? Apollo seemed like the sort of man to make these sorts of conclusions without much prodding, and Loki immediately started to wonder if they were being too obvious. His eyes flickered toward Thor, who was whispering something to his mother; his brother hadn’t the faintest idea that he had bedded his intended repeatedly for months now. No, but Apollo knew, and if one person beyond Loki and Artemis knew, there was a liability floating around. 

He couldn’t have someone ruin what he had with her – he wouldn’t. His jaw clenched as the curly-haired blond leaned down and kissed Artemis on the forehead, her hands clutched around the fabric of his white toga. He tried to pull away, and Loki sighed when Artemis continued to cling to him; she rarely acted like a child, but it seemed Apollo managed to bring out that side of her. He wanted to simply march across the circular room and pry her hands from the man, but he would surely give himself up in that moment. Instead, the blonde servant—Callisto—cautiously strolled toward them and made a big show of warning Artemis that the Bifrost would suck her in if she lingered by its entrance. 

Completely false, of course, but it seemed that it gave Artemis a reason to step back from her brother. Once she was at a “safe distance”, Loki heard Heimdall begin the ancient process of magical transport between the realms. Apollo turned to face the group, giving one final farewell wave, and then blew a kiss to his sister. Moments later, a blur of colour surrounded him, and one moment he was there and the next he was not. It was always such a noisy affair, particularly for those left behind rather than those who used the Bifrost to travel, and Loki gritted his teeth as he waited for the process to end. 

He had found less dramatic methods of transport in and out of the realm years ago during cautious explorations with his magic, but knew he would be punished if he put those paths on display. Instead, he kept them quiet, but they would have been less dramatic for Artemis. 

When he had finally disappeared, Artemis and Callisto slowly rejoined the group, and Loki could immediately see that his lover held back her tears. With watery eyes, Artemis offered a small smile to the royal family, who all seemed to watch her with baited breath. Loki, meanwhile, shot a pointed look to Thor; had Artemis been his woman outright, Loki would have been the one holding her, not the servant girl. 

“It will get easier in time,” his mother told her kindly, reaching for Artemis’s hand as the woman approached her. His lover took the small comfort in stride, her smile quite obviously forced as she clasped Frigga’s hand, but she certainly looked as though she appreciated it.

“It’s always difficult to part from him,” she admitted as she swiped a finger beneath her eye and gave a weak chuckle. “We’ve been coming together and parting for centuries, and every time I become a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Family is everything,” his father told her, which made her swallow thickly. Loki finally met Thor’s gaze from across the way, but then averted his stare elsewhere. “Never apologize for having their love close to you.”

Artemis nodded with a sniffle, and once the All-father had turned back toward the city, the rest fell in line behind him. He wished he could march by her side, but her handmaidens seemed to take on that responsibility; the nymph even nudged Thor out of the way to be by her mistress. So, his brother was forced to fall back with him, and the group traveled in silence across the long multi-coloured bridge. When they eventually arrived at the palace, Artemis and her girls disappeared, and Thor departed shortly after, making his excuses about spending the night in the arena with the Warriors Three. 

Loki held in a scoff: Thor would be in the arena, yes, but he knew for a fact that the Warriors Three were not going to be with him. His brother may have become better at hiding his dalliances with Lady Sif, but just barely – the other day, the man still had a mark on his neck from a passionate lover, and Loki assumed his brother wouldn’t dare bed anyone beyond Sif. Besides, he also knew for a fact that the mark did not come from Artemis, and Thor played it off as a bruise from a skirmish in the arena, but even his mother seemed hesitant to believe the lie. 

He said nothing, of course. No, Loki merely told the man to give the Warriors his best, and as his parents also drifted away in their own direction, Loki saw fit to sulk in the dark corridors. He then passed the time by tormenting two servants he found canoodling in the hallway – from a distance, mind you – by animating the portraits and statues around them. The woman eventually fled, eyes wide and lips trembling, and her ardent companion hurried after her. Loki remained in the shadows, grinning as he watched the pair rush by the column that shielded him from sight. Still, the game only temporarily improved his mood, and as he stalked down into the depths of the palace toward his bedchambers, he found that nothing he thought of would help the way he felt. 

So, as much as he didn’t particularly want to, Loki realized the rest of his night would consist of a book and sleep. He would have liked to have visited Artemis, especially now that he could be sure he wouldn’t find her brother in her bed (that particular habit seemed to throw him), but he assumed that her handmaidens would be there to console her in her current state. If they weren’t, it was probably because Artemis demanded to be alone. 

He sighed as he approached his arched doorway, and then threw both doors open with a miserable huff. As expected, darkness enveloped him as he magically slammed the doors shut behind him, and it took nothing more than a flick of his wrist to illuminate the large chamber with candlelight. He had recently moved into the lowest levels of the palace, opting for a room that offered better privacy than the one he had before. Although he was usually the one to visit her, he wished for Artemis to feel safe in the shadows should she ever feel the urge to seek him out. 

Once she was married, there would be little hope for him to sneak into her bedchambers, and that worried him. Artemis was certainly less proactive about seeking out sexual conquests – he rubbed his eyes wearily. It wasn’t as if he only wanted her for the sexuality of it all, but it was certainly a pleasurable perk to the relationship. 

He went straight for his wardrobe, peeling off the outer layers of his shirts and tossing them in without any care of how they ought to be hung. Let them be wrinkled! His fingers fumbled, however, when he started to unlace the bindings of his trousers, and he looked back sharply over his shoulder when he heard a faint chuckle from the far side of his room. 

“Are you always so unobservant when you’re alone?” Artemis inquired playfully, and Loki smiled when he spied her tucked up neatly beneath his beddings, hugging her knees to her chest. “Had I been an assassin, you would already be dead.”

All form of angst and worry were cast aside as he strolled toward her, bare-chested and grinning like a simpleton. The surprise was such a pleasant one, even if she considered the gesture small. As he drew closer, he noticed her bare shoulders peeking out from beneath the linens, and he wondered if he might find her completely bare beneath it all. His arousal stirred easily at the thought, as it always did when it came to the blonde Olympian before him. 

“Had you been an assassin,” he purred, crawling across the large bed toward her, his eyes focused on hers, “I have no doubt that would have killed me long ago… somewhere very public…” He leaned forward to steal a tentative kiss. “And you would have gotten away with it.”

“You think?” He kissed her again, this time lingering. His arms shook as they held him up, but not out of weariness, but rather anticipation. He had missed her. 

“Oh, most definitely.”

She then dropped all coy pretenses and cupped his face, yanking him forward for a kiss that expressed just how much she had missed him too. They hadn’t been together since the night before Apollo’s arrival, and Loki would have preferred to leave a better memory in her mind about their trysts. He parted his lips at her keen insistence, and then happy let her roll him onto his back. The linens slid away to reveal that she had forgone any sort of dress for the evening, and his eyes drifted shut as she ground her hips against his hardening length. 

“I thought you might prefer solitude tonight,” he insisted, a kiss breaking up each word. Artemis withdrew at the comment, settling atop him with her hands on his chest. “I would have come to you had I known—”

“I believe I need a distraction,” she said softly, tracing her fingers lightly over his skin until they reached his nipple, which she pinched sharply. Loki hissed and batted her hand away, and she caught him by the wrist, bringing it to her chest. “I’ve missed you.”

Loki swallowed thickly, touched by the frank omission, and merely nodded several times as he tugged her back down to him. He let her take charge completely – whatever she desired that night, she could have. After all, she had been kind enough to indulge in his desires before, even if she wasn’t especially impressed with them. He fiddled with her hair as she went for the string bindings on his trousers, hastily unlacing them and tugging the troublesome fabric down his legs. 

He would have liked to linger more – perhaps roll her onto her back and shower her with affection – but his lady was eager tonight. In fact, he barely needed to touch her before she slid down his entire length in a single move, sighing deeply with her head thrown back. Loki grimaced at the pleasure, at the heat and wetness that settled between them; it was a good thing he had let her take the reins, or he would have barreled on ahead and really fucked her without hesitation. 

Instead, they loved one another slowly, with Artemis rising and falling and kissing, and Loki merely accepting whatever she had to give. He preferred her hands nestled in his hair, just as his long digits wove through hers. Their lips remained close, and were only forced apart when she suddenly gripped his shoulders and bucked against him, her eyes pressed tightly together and his name whispered as a plea. He took control then, thrusting against her as roughly as he dared until she cried out, her skin flushing the same soft pink it always did when she came. 

He had been so lost in her that he barely noticed his own pleasure, but when she clenched around him, he was gone. A hand fisted in her hair as he dragged her close, grinding against her as he rode out the last of his climax, teeth grazing the skin of her neck. They stayed like that for some time, breathing heavily and nuzzling, until finally Artemis eased herself off of him, which made him groan. 

“I missed you too,” Loki murmured, curling an arm around her shoulder and keeping her by his side. The Olympian smiled—a genuine one at that—and brought her lips to his, kissing him tenderly as her fingertips grazed his chin. 

How were they going to manage this when she married Thor? They could go months without finding the time to be with one another—how would be cope? Loki pulled her tighter to his side and deepened their kiss, unwilling to release her for some time.

* * *

Artemis knew she needed to leave. The morning hours were early still, but she knew she couldn’t linger in Loki’s chambers for too long. Callisto and Nomia would be eager to get her out and doing things once they awoke, fearful that she may become reclusive without Apollo there, and they would panic when they found an empty bed. However, her time with Loki had been so pleasant – very much needed – that she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but lay by his side, their fingers occasionally intertwined. 

Apollo’s visit had been the best week of her entire Asgardian stay. Yes, she had some wonderful moments with her lover, and this would surely be one of them to be remembered, but her brother would always come first for her. They had talked, laughed, explored, swam, and eaten their way through all the hours in a day, and Artemis usually awoke quite early so that she could make the most of every moment with him. It was so utterly painful to see him leave, but her entire family would be present for her wedding – which was less than two months away now – and that meant she would see her brother again soon. She could care less about the rest of the family, but surely it would be nice to see her father again too. 

She wished Apollo’s absence did not have the effect on her that it did, but she was always such a sniveling child whenever they parted. It felt like a part of her broke away in that very moment, but just as Frigga said, it grew a little bit easier each time. She dreaded the day when it would not bother her at all – it would be a horrible day indeed. 

Loki inhaled deeply at her side, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around her waist. She stroked his hair, dipping down to plant a soft kiss to his forehead. Two months more of this ease, and then she would face life as a married woman. At this point, she was sure their affair would continue beyond her wedding vows, but she wasn’t entirely sure how. Like any wife and queen, Artemis would be required to provide the throne with an heir, perhaps two, and then she would be inextricably bound to Thor. 

Apollo had warned her of what an affair like this would bring – it could ruin everything. Zeus would strike her down, and there was no telling what he might do to the man who supposedly “defiled” his virgin daughter. Olympus could lose an ally – the Titans could swell in numbers. That was the worst of it, naturally, and her brother was known for his dramatics. However, he certainly had a point, and Artemis valued his opinion above all others. 

“What are we doing?” she whispered shakily, the first words spoken between them since he had admitted that he too missed her. Loki inhaled sharply, shifting with more purpose this time, and then tightened his hold on her. 

“I was trying to sleep.”

“No,” she murmured, trailing a finger down his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. “What are we doing?”

“You mustn’t ask such questions,” Loki told her kindly, planting a kiss on her collarbone. “Neither of us will like the answer.”

“But perhaps it is necessary.” She cleared her throat and sat up a little, disturbing her lover’s position just enough to make him groan. “Apollo thinks we ought to be more careful… or see each other less frequently.”

“Yes, I meant to ask if you had told him about us,” he muttered. “What were you thinking?”

“We can trust him.”

“Hmm.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she delivered yet another sharp pinch to his side, which made him twitch. “We can.”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded quickly, hands up as a sign of apology. “I believe you.”

“Do you?”

“I must.” She pursed her lips and nodded: they would have nothing without trust. 

“I should have warned you that I told him,” she admitted after a lengthy pause, “but he figured it out on his own… He said he could tell by the way you looked at me.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” She ducked her head down once more to accept his questing lips, her eyes heavy-lidded as she gazed at him. When he tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled back, licking her lips and sighing. “I fear for what this may do to us… to everyone.”

“I know.”

“Perhaps we should… stop,” she started, looking away when he frowned. “At least until we know a safer way to be with one another.”

“This is safe,” Loki protested quickly. “We’ve not been caught yet… Artemis,” he turned her face back toward him, a firm grip on her chin, “we’re fine.”

“But what about Thor?”

“What about him?”

“I have no sense of loyalty to him,” she insisted, giving her lover a quick kiss as reassurance, “but perhaps I should start to actually… try around him. We’ll be married in two months, and he’s been nothing but earnest with me-“

“He’s been having an affair with Sif.” 

Loki almost spat the secret out, and the harshness of his tone made her flinch. Something in the pit of her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and she blinked back her surprise. 

“W-What?”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sitting up properly and running a hand through his shaggy hair, “I didn’t mean to tell you like that… but it’s true.” She folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows steeped. “They were lovers before your engagement, and I’ve caught them several times after… He’s with her tonight… now, I expect.”

She wasn’t even sure how to feel about any of it. A part of her felt relieved to know that she wasn’t the only one who had a difficult time with the thought of marrying someone else. A very small part of her felt hurt that he would find comfort in the arms of another, but a much bigger part insisted she not be a hypocrite about the whole issue. 

“Artemis,” Loki prodded, a hand resting on her leg, “say something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she blurted. She then gave a nervous laugh, running a hand through her hair and smiling at him. “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Loki frowned once more, though not quite as deeply as before. “He’ll never be able to tell me off should he discover us-“

“Let’s hope that it never happens regardless,” Loki said quickly, his mood brightening by her reaction, “but you aren’t angry with him?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she told him, waving off the question as she clambered onto his lap. “Perhaps if I loved him, but I would be far more upset if I discovered you…” She trailed off, catching herself before the words slipped free. “I’m not angry.”

“Good.” She grinned when she felt him harden beneath her again. “I would never take another lover, Artemis. I’ll never take one again if you wish it.”

“Hush,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, their bodies pressed together. “Hush now.”

He nodded and willingly accepted her lips, his hands sliding up and into her hair—secured and loved.


	22. Exposed

“He’s beautiful, Volstagg,” Artemis said as she ran her hand over the large buck’s fur, smoothing it down and skirting the bloodstain. “We’ll make a hunter out of you yet.”

“You sing such high praises, my lady,” the warrior muttered, the bashful smile growing when Artemis shot him an approving look, “but it was only luck that I happened upon him… We startled each other, and I shot first.”

She leaned inward and lowered her voice just enough so that the rest were not privy to her secret. “That’s basically what hunting is… Luck and skill combined.”

“I suppose I do have a chance at becoming great then,” Volstagg chuckled, patting his armored stomach—which protruded slightly over his belt—twice before grasping the large creature by the antlers. Artemis stepped aside quickly when she saw Thor duck down to grab the hindquarters, and she folded her arms over her chest as she watched the men hoist the beast atop Volstagg’s horse. 

“Careful now,” Loki purred as he strolled by. “The steed cannot hold both that enormous creature and the buck.”

Artemis smirked, though she tried to hide it behind a disapproving glare. Volstagg gave a barking laugh, clearly unimpressed with the jibe. “And where is your kill, Loki? Have you hidden it somewhere?”

“My day will come, my friend,” Loki countered, stopping in front of his mare to stroke her nose. “You’ll see.”

“Well, this day belongs to Volstagg!” the warrior thundered. “And I say we celebrate with a swim in the nearby pool! I think we’ve earned it.”

“It is impossibly hot today,” Lady Sif agreed, and Artemis exchanged a nod with her. “A swim will make the ride home bearable.”

“I agree,” Artemis said brightly, noticing the way Loki cast a hesitant look between her and Sif, as though Artemis might attack her at any moment. “A swim sounds lovely.”

As if she would do something so reckless. It had only been a matter of days since she discovered that her intended was also engaged in an illicit affair with someone outside of their engagement, and she felt the same now as she did when Loki first broke the news. She felt somewhat betrayed at the idea that Thor needed someone beyond her for company, but then she let the hypocrisy of her feelings sink in, and they slowly melted away. Now that she knew to pay attention to the interactions between Thor and Lady Sif, she saw it: they loved one another—to a degree, anyway. 

Loki insisted that their love was a strange sort of friendship mingled with lust, but given the chance, Thor probably would have wed Sif when the time was right. Unfortunately, despite her status as an esteemed warrior, Sif would never be accepted by Odin and Frigga as a suitable match for the soon-to-be Asgardian king. Therefore, their love remained unrequited and shallow – according to Loki – because they knew they could not become something more than they are. Artemis had her doubts that their love was “shallow”, but thus far she hadn’t seen any outward displays that would hint otherwise.

Any other woman would have been horrid to Sif. In fact, Artemis could come up with a ridiculous number of ways that Aphrodite would have punished the lover of her lover. However, when Artemis thought back over all of their past interactions, Lady Sif had never once been unkind to her. She had never been cruel or dismissive, nor did she try to sabotage Artemis’s forced interactions with Thor. The female warrior seemed to know her place – in public, anyway – and Artemis appreciated it. Let them be in love. It certainly wasn’t hurting her to know that Thor desired another—Artemis’s love wasn’t his either. No, her heart belonged to the lesser brother of the royal family, and the two of them had kept their secret so very well. 

Still, even with their secret safe, her wedding day loomed in the near future. Her thoughts had been scattered about what she ought to do with her affair; had she no real feelings for Loki, it would have been easy to stop. Unfortunately, her heart made it increasingly impossible to imagine a world where she did not share his bed and his love, which meant she had a life of secrecy ahead of her if she wished to continue. Whenever she thought too deeply on the matter, however, Artemis reminded herself that she still had time to spare before final decisions were made.

There was a wealth of distractions to keep her occupied in the meantime. Not only had she been finding more ways of spending time with Loki at night, but she had also spent a number of days in the past week exploring the central city of the realm. It had always been there, glistening in all its opulence next to the palace, but Artemis had rarely taken the time to explore beyond the nearby marketplaces. So, with her girls in tow, Artemis dedicated each day to exploring a specific district of the city. She looked at everything from the production district to the shopping centre, and she realized she learned a great deal more about her future people in that week than she had for the entirety of her duration on Asgard. Frigga’s lessons were one thing, but they couldn’t compare to some hands-on experience. 

Today, mercifully enough, Artemis did not need to use the city as a distraction to her romantic woes. Instead, Thor organized a hunting trip for her, Loki, and the Warriors Three. He argued that it had been some time since they all ventured out together, and someone had told him that the game were starting their winter migration early this year. Artemis never needed a specific reason to go on a hunt, but the thought of plentiful prey certainly piqued her interest. 

So, after readying their horses that morning, they set out in a large group toward the western wilderness. Fandral seemed to be trying to get back into her good graces – possibly on Thor’s behest – and Artemis entertained the idea, but she wore an aloof mask whenever he appeared to be trying too hard. 

Just as Thor’s informants had told him, the game was much more active now that the season was late than they had been a few months earlier. However, despite the fact that it grew closer and closer to the cooler months of the Asgardian calendar, the day was atrociously hot and it became worse as the day wore on. Despite the overabundance of game rushing through the shadows, most of her shots had been unsuccessful, and she stopped trying when she realized the heat was making her more frustrated than she ought to be. Volstagg, thus far, was the only one of the group to capture something, and as he had said, it was due to sheer luck. 

Although, no one had checked the traps Nomia set earlier that morning: for all they knew, her little human handmaiden could have caught half a dozen small creatures by now. 

After the furor caused by Volstagg’s kill settled, the group moved onward to the pool that the warrior had mentioned. The thought of cooling her heated skin was forever appealing, and even her stout steed seemed to have more of pep in his step when they mentioned water. They traveled in a lengthy caravan with Volstagg leading the way, a trail of blood dripping from his fresh kill, while Hogun took up the rear. Loki traveled next to Sif and behind Fandral, and Artemis’s lips quirked upward when she saw her lover lean in and speak to the woman with a coy expression on his face: he loved to play. Meanwhile, Nomia and Callisto rode behind her, engaged in a conversation about Nomia’s traps, and Thor was at her side. 

“Do you miss your brother, my lady?”

The question took her out of her pleasant thoughts of cold water and springs, and Artemis readjusted her grip on the reigns. “Yes, of course.”

“We shall have to bring him over more often,” he continued, patting his horse’s side when the beast snorted. “I believe he would fit in well in court.”

“Yes, Apollo is quite adept at blending in anywhere he goes.”

“Will he be in attendance for the wedding?”

“I suspect so,” she told him. Artemis would be so angry with her twin if he couldn’t make the time to come to her wedding. “Your mother told me she extended an invitation to my family a month before the actual wedding…”

He nodded. “Yes, my father had mentioned something about that last night.”

She couldn’t stand the thought of Hera being in Asgard for more than a day, but if it meant that Apollo would be with her the entire time, she was quite open to the idea. 

“I hope you are all prepared for a month of Olympians,” Artemis remarked with a grin. “They are quite the drunkards once they are comfortable.”

“Have you not paid attention at all these last months?” Thor asked, laughing when she arched an eyebrow at him. “Drunkards are common in my father’s court… Your family will settle in just fine.”

“I suppose.” Apollo had been a good fit because he tried. Her father would have no trouble because of his friendship with Odin. Hera, on the other hand, would stick out like a sore, horrible thumb. “I am hoping for the best.”

“As am I.” She shot him a small smile when he paused. “I … I don’t believe I made the best impression on your father when he was last here.”

Artemis smiled, and then glanced at him sharply when she realized it hadn’t been a jest. How could he think that? Her father had chosen Thor to be her husband out of all the other lugs in the realms because he approved of him. 

“I think you did just fine,” Artemis told him. She never would have thought that Thor of all people would require reassurance, and she wondered if her father had dismissed him in some way. “My father wouldn’t have left me here if he disapproved of you.”

“All the same, I should like to find myself on his good side when he returns to Asgard,” the warrior remarked, staring off into the distance—perhaps at Lady Sif—as their horses trotted along the wooded path. “Can you think of anything that might help me do that?”

Her eyes wandered up to Loki and fixed on a spot on his neck. It should have touched her that Thor was making the time and effort to find ways to please her family, but she couldn’t help but think that Loki would never have needed to ask. No, her lover was quite intuitive about these sorts of things—he would have figured it out on his own. 

Still, she ought to give Thor some credit for trying—it was more than she had done for him. 

“My father would love to listen to your stories about battle,” she told him after a lengthy lull in their conversation. “He will want to hear about your prowess and skill as a warrior… and he will want you to ask about the Titans.”

“The Titans?”

She nodded, eyes still fixed on Loki. “Yes, he will tell you all about the Titans. He wants you to fight them.”

“Fight them?”

“I think he will be the one to tell you about them properly,” she continued. “Though, perhaps my brother Ares will come and then he can tell you about them.” She glanced at him, noting the furrow in his brow. “He leads our armies against them.”

There were no more questions after that. She wondered if she should have told him about the Titans, about her father’s original purpose for the marriage. Naturally, it was too late now to take it back; Thor would have questions when the Olympian party arrived for their wedding. However, a part of her felt like it was only fair that he knew—she owed him that much. They traveled along in silence afterward, interrupted only by bursts of conversation shared amongst the entire group. 

The swimming hole was something entirely new, a place where she had yet to venture in Asgard, and Artemis was thrilled at the sight. It was quite the large area, with wide offshoots into smaller springs, and she could hear a rumbling waterfall pouring down the side of a small ledge, emptying the contents of a mountain stream into the pool. She eased off her steed as they approached, and once she had removed his riding shackles, the beast found a place at the edge of the lake beside Loki’s mare, as he always did. 

She spied Fandral and Volstagg removing their armor as they chatted merrily, and she laughed along with the rest of them when Fandral shoved his companion into the water. The blond warrior dove in soon after when Thor charged him, and Artemis quirked an eyebrow when her intended dragged a protesting Sif in with him. Nomia shyly led Hogun to the water’s edge, and he seemed amused by her careful toeing of the rippling water before leaping in. Callisto seemed less than willing to get in, instead opting to take a seat by the edge with her feet dangling in the water. Loki, on the other hand, simply sat cross-legged on the shore, laughing at his brother’s antics. 

“You don’t want to swim, Loki?” She peeled off her outer layers, leaving her in nothing but a pale brown toga. His eyes wandered her legs as she started to unlace her sandals, but he hastily looked away when she caught his gaze. 

“I am quite comfortable out here,” he told her. Artemis sauntered by, giving his shoulder a little nudge as she did, and then grinned at him. 

“Spoilsport.” 

“Get in the water, brother!” Thor boomed from across the pond. “It will cure your sour expression.”

“My expression is not sour!”

“He’s just moody because I have a kill and he does not,” Volstagg insisted cheekily. “A dip in here won’t cure him of that.”

Loki scoffed at her side, but Artemis wasn’t there to soothe his bruised ego—not in front of the others, anyway. Instead, she dove headlong into the water and remained beneath the surface for a moment or so to bask in the coolness of it. The noise returned when she surfaced: Nomia’s laughter, Thor’s heckling, and Volstagg’s boasting. 

Sighing, Artemis drifted along lazily on her back, and then let out a disgruntled yelp when Thor appeared out of nowhere at her side and pushed her under. She sunk down to the bottom of the pool, which was perhaps only slightly deeper than the ones back at the palace, and when she pushed herself back up, he grinned toothily at her. 

“Are you trying to drown me before the wedding?” she asked, eyebrows up when he laughed. “Perhaps avoid my father entirely?”

“Oh, you’ve seen right through my games, my lady,” Thor chuckled, pulling her toward him by her forearms. “This whole day was actually about your murder… You’ve caught me!”

“You’ll need to be much cleverer than that if you wish to end me,” she told him with a laugh. 

And then, suddenly, she was on his back. She wrapped her arms securely around his thick neck, though her legs hung behind him, kicking weakly as though that would keep them afloat. 

“Loki is in a mood,” he muttered, turning his head just slightly so that they could meet one another’s gaze. Artemis nodded and glanced at Loki, who wore the most distasteful expression on his face. “I think a dip would cheer him up.”

No, she knew it wouldn’t. In fact, she was quite sure Thor knew it wouldn’t either, but he seemed to be at a loss about what plagued his brother’s mood. So, she nodded quickly, a grin on her lips, and then held tight as Thor paddled toward the man. 

“Brother, are you sure you don’t wish to come in?” 

“No, I’m fine,” Loki replied testily, his eyes sweeping across her face and down to her arms around Thor’s neck. “The heat isn’t bothering me.”

“Oh, but it’s so lovely in here,” Artemis argued as she eased her body off Thor’s back and clung to the rocky siding instead. “I think you’d like it.”

“Yes, listen to Artemis, brother,” Thor remarked, hauling himself up just enough to rest his arms on the shoreline. “You really should come in.”

Artemis’s eyes flickered up when she saw Callisto creep up behind Loki. The handmaiden nodded down at her lover’s shoulders, and Artemis gave the slightest nod of encouragement. Loki’s eyes narrowed upon her shortly after. 

“Are you two plotting?”

“Now, why would you say that?” Artemis demanded. “Am I the type to plot?”

“I wouldn’t put it past either of you,” Loki said quickly. It was then that they lunged; Artemis and Thor each grabbed an arm, and she saw Callisto go for Loki’s shoulders. The man protested loudly as they hauled him forward, but all his cries could do nothing once he hit the water. 

The trio plunged down toward the pool’s smooth bottom, and Artemis pushed upward when she spotted Loki swimming toward her. Both she and Thor broke through the water’s barrier in tandem, and Loki followed shortly thereafter. 

“Oh, we’ve brought forth the wrath of Loki, my lady!” Thor exclaimed when a sodden Loki glared at them. “Swim for your very life!”

Artemis let out a giggle as Loki lunged for them both, and she and Thor split off in opposite directions. Based on the thrashing behind her, she assumed Loki decided to chase her instead of his brother, and she kicked harder in an effort to ward him off. 

However, he continued to pursue her, and Artemis smirked when she spotted the roaring waterfall ahead. It sounded much larger than it was, and she barely thought twice about diving below the cascading stream. The pressure pushed her down to the pool’s bottom, but it wasn’t strong enough to keep her from propelling her body back to the surface on the other side. She re-emerged in a small cave behind the falls, and released a laugh when Loki used her to haul his body up to the surface. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist and dragging her closer. “Are you in cahoots with my brother now? Here to make me miserable?”

“Oh, you make yourself miserable all on your own,” Artemis snapped, trailing her fingers through his thick black hair. “We merely thought you would be more comfortable in the water than out of it.”

“Lies,” he whispered, easing her back against a rocky ledge and then claiming her lips. She stiffened, eyes darting toward the watery wall that kept them hidden from the rest of the group, and then relaxed when she saw no figures emerging from it. 

His kiss was tentative at first, cautious and gentle, and it only deepened when she trailed the tips of her fingers along his jawline. It was then that he nipped at her lower lip, his breath harsh against her skin as his hands wandered to her legs. 

“Loki,” she warned softly. “We shouldn’t—”

She bit her lip to muffle her cry when his hand found its way beneath her short dress, cupping her when he bit down on her shoulder. 

“My lady?”

Callisto’s voice cut through the thundering water so clearly that it made Artemis gasp. She shoved Loki away, but when the nymph appeared in the small crack between water and wall, it was quite obvious what she had stumbled upon. To her credit, Callisto gave no reaction to the scene, and merely nodded out toward the pool. 

“They are looking for you… both of you,” she insisted. She then disappeared when Artemis nodded firmly and shot Loki a glare. He cocked an eyebrow in response. 

“Flustered, my love?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he observed her. Her draw dropped a little at the affectionate term, but Artemis splashed him before he could say anything further, and then kicked off from the rocky surface. She ended up on the other side of the waterfall quickly enough, Loki at her heels, and waved when she spotted Thor drifting listlessly toward them. 

“I was wondering where you two had gone,” he told her as she approached. 

“I thought I should go for the weaker target,” Loki said before she could get a word in. “Artemis was less likely to best me.”

“But I did anyway,” she retorted, giving his side a sharp poke. Thor laughed when the man winced, and she couldn’t help but share in the mirth. 

The trio swam back toward the group as Loki and Artemis told Thor about the cavern behind the waterfall, careful to leave certain details out of their story. Although they had been discovered by Callisto, she had every confidence that the blonde nymph would keep their secret. So, despite the minor setback, they had gotten away with their infidelities in plain sight. Thor remained unsuspecting of them, just as he thought she was about his affections for Lady Sif, and the group dynamic remained unchanged. Perhaps this could actually work—perhaps they wouldn’t need to bring the affair to a close once she was married? 

She glanced toward Loki from across the pool, and when he caught her gaze, he smiled knowingly.


	23. Callisto

Although Artemis enjoyed her sporadic hunting trips with Thor and Loki and all the rest, she certainly preferred going out into the wilderness with no one but her girls. Callisto and Nomia were seasoned hunters, and never once did she need to chastise them for treading too noisily or conversing when they ought not to. Not that she could rightfully chastise any of Thor’s companions for their follies while hunting, but she certainly would have liked to. Her girls were less likely to induce an uncomfortable tremor of frustration within Artemis whenever she was in nature, and for that reason alone, she would rather take the two of them out than anyone—Loki included. Her lover was more adept to silence than the rest of them, but he wasn’t an especially great hunter by any means. 

Loki took no offense to her dismissal of his hunting abilities. Unlike Thor, Loki rarely deflated or tried to overcompensate when a real flaw was pointed out, and by now, Artemis felt comfortable enough to know when she could poke fun and when she ought to keep silent with both of them. Thor hated to lose almost as much as he hated to be embarrassed, whereas Loki was usually forced to endure his small humiliation for the benefit of the group dynamic. Loki knew how to grit his teeth and endure, while his brother merely argued the point to death until it was no longer an issue. 

Still, even with his frustrating absurdities, Artemis was pleased that it was easier to read Thor. Their wedding crept ever closer, and now that she and Loki realized they could carry this on in secrecy even after she was married, she thought she ought to devote some of her attention to her betrothed. After all, Loki may have been all hers in the dark corners and empty halls of the palace, but it was Thor who would be a constant companion in the light and the father to her children—in theory, anyway. 

Therefore, with that knowledge circulating around in her head, Artemis really tried to ease away from their uncomfortable relationship in private to something a little more informal. Twice this past week, she had ordered her handmaidens to bring her and Thor ale to take in the garden, rather than dessert, and it seemed that made conversation flow much easier. 

Loki even encouraged her socializing with his brother. He thought it would be a good idea to be on better terms with the man, especially if they planned to fool him during the marriage. A part of her felt guilty for the deception, particularly when she was starting to get along with Thor, but she did it for love. How could she open her heart to another man when the one who stole it lived in the same home? She knew she could grow to love Thor as a husband; she would love his ability to rule and the way he spoiled their children, but she would never be in love with him. However, that did not mean she needed to be distant or alienate herself from her soon-to-be husband. Yes, the guilt gnawed a little sharper as their friendship grew, but so too did her sense of ease around him, and she preferred to expand the latter, even if it induced the former. 

Aside from expanding on her friendship with Thor, Artemis spent a few evenings earlier in the week exploring the tunnels hidden in the walls of the palace. Loki knew them all by heart, and he gave her little challenges to find stolen items with minimal directions in order to help her learn the routes. It was actually a great deal of fun, though she still considered it a little too risky to have her way with him there: the walls may have been thick, but she wasn’t sure who else knew of the hidden halls, and she wasn’t about to let lust be her undoing. 

Digging her heels into her horse’s side, she urged the beast onward, ordering more speed as she thundered across the grassy sea of Asgard’s countryside. She and her girls were in pursuit of a doe that was separated from the large herd they encountered earlier in the hour, but the creature seemed to catch a burst of speed as they neared the treeline. Despite her horse’s intentions, the beast evaded them once again, disappearing into the shadows with a flick of its giant heels. Sighing, she finally slowed her steed down, stopping just short of the first tree. Nomia’s beast caught up quickly, and the human seemed a little breathless now that the chase had ended. 

“Shall we follow her in?” Callisto inquired, her mare snorting noisily at the prospect. Artemis’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scenery before her, a breeze dancing through the dark green leaves; the doe was long gone by now, and she probably wouldn’t stop until she had reached safety deep in the bowels of the forest. 

“No.” She shook her head and readjusted the strap of her bow, which cut across her chest tightly. “No, she has earned her freedom.”

“She gave us a good chase,” Nomia said as she patted her steed. “I thought she would be sluggish this late in the year.”

“No matter,” Artemis insisted, setting her horse into a trot as she started off along the treeline. After a moment of studying the trees, she realized it looked quite familiar. She glanced over her shoulder. “Nomia, didn’t you set some traps here this morning?”

The human squinted as she joined Artemis, their horses barely fazed at the other’s presence, and she bit her lip. “Yes, I think this was it.”

“We’ll wait while you check them,” Artemis told her. She then pointed to a cluster of young trees. “I can see the trap over there caught a bird of some sort.”

“Oh, how exciting!”

Artemis chuckled as the redhead blitzed off toward the trees, hopping from her beast and vanishing into the shadows they cast. Her shoulders slumped a little as she relaxed, content to wait until Nomia had seen to all of the traps she set; the weather was so pleasant that she could have spent an eternity in it. Now that Asgard was getting away from the hottest months of the year, it was actually quite tolerable to be outside during all hours of the day. 

Normally, Callisto would have been at her side, but the nymph had seemed oddly distant ever since she encountered Artemis and Loki in a somewhat compromising position behind the waterfall. It made absolutely no sense: Callisto had been privy to her affair with Orion and had never once behaved thusly. The idea made her frown, and she looked back at the nymph curiously. The blonde seemed fixated on the forest, despite the fact Artemis knew she could see her studying her out of the corner of her eye. 

“Do you have something you would like to say to me, Callisto?”

The nymph flinched at the sharpness of her tone, but shook her head all the same. “No.”

“Then why won’t you look at me properly?”

Callisto pursed her lips and then squared her shoulders. “If you truly wish to know, I would like to speak freely without consequence.”

“Of course.”

She watched as the nymph gently urged her horse closer, and she set her hands down on her lap with a resigned sigh. “My lady, I do not presume to tell you who you ought to give your heart to—”

“Nor should you.”

“But I only see misfortune in your future should you stay with him,” Callisto continued firmly. Artemis bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from snapping at her; although her words were biting, Callisto surely offered them from a good-natured place. “What do you expect from him?”

“I don’t expect anything,” Artemis lied, rolling her eyes as she brought her gaze back toward the treeline. “He is free to do whatever he wishes… There are no plans or goals. We both know I’ll be married soon.”

“He cannot give you a child,” the nymph insisted, and Artemis turned back to her sharply, nostrils flared. “If he did, you know the babe would never be accepted.”

“I don’t intend on—”

“You’ll be cast down, just as he will,” she argued. “You and I know men who have murdered the children of their wife’s lover... Thor would never forgive you.”

“I’m not asking for it—”

“Well, you would never get it.”

“Enough,” she snapped. Her horse snorted and shuffled back and forth, clearly distressed by her tone. “You have said what you needed to say.”

“How could you choose the lesser brother?”

Artemis could have slapped her, and when their eyes met, she was sure she saw the nymph tremble. However, to her credit, Callisto managed to maintain her gaze, shoulders back and head up defiantly. Jaw set, Artemis turned away first; a part of her knew that she was right. She had chosen the lesser of the two brothers in the eyes of the realm, but she would never apologize for it. No, she may have chosen a weaker man, but in her eyes, he was the better one, and that was something none of them would ever understand. 

After all, she barely understood it. 

“The heart never knows what it wants,” Artemis muttered. “I’m afraid that we are all slaves to it.”

“Aora was a slave to hers, too.”

“Do not speak to me of Aora and her transgressions.” She fussed over a knotted clump of hair in her steed’s mane, making the creature stomp irritably. “She knew what her affair would bring her.”

“Do you know what yours will bring?”

“Misery,” she replied earnestly. “In the end, I suspect there will be misery… but not now.”

“If you say so, my lady.”

Artemis swallowed thickly, surprised that she had not lashed out more. Perhaps if someone else had broached her on the subject, she would have torn his or her head square from its resting place on those foolish shoulders. However, this was different: Callisto was a true sister, even if Artemis did not particularly like what she had to say. 

“You mustn’t tell anyone,” Artemis sighed. “Not even Nomia.”

“I haven’t said a word,” the nymph told her, “and I don’t intend to.”

“Good.” She took another deep breath, the tension rippling through her limbs. “There is no one else I can speak to about it.”

“Does Apollo know?”

She gave a laugh at her brother’s name, and then nodded. “He sniffed it out before I admitted to it.”

“I thought as much.”

Her eyebrow curved upward as she observed the nymph, who seemed infinitely more at ease now that she had said what she needed to say. “How long have you known?”

“I always suspected,” she said with a shrug. “It’s obvious to anyone who really pays attention that he’s infatuated with you… It was clear from the start.”

“Yes,” she smiled softly as she spoke, “I suppose it was.”

The sound of Nomia’s return ceased the conversation, and Artemis turned her attention to her human handmaiden. The redhead looked a little downtrodden as her horse cantered back toward the duo, and she let out a frazzled huff once she had brought the horse to a halt. 

“Every trap was empty,” she complained. “The only one that caught something I… I didn’t have the heart to kill it.” Artemis shot her a look. “Oh, it was just a baby, and its mother was yowling nearby, so I let it go.”

“You and your compassion, Nomia,” Artemis scolded lightly. “One day, it will be the end of you.”

“But not today,” the girl said brightly. “Let’s try by the mountains, shall we? Volstagg said there are the largest goats that he has ever seen.”

“I doubt Volstagg knows what he’s talking about,” Callisto laughed.

“No, no, let’s try,” Artemis decided, nodding toward the impressive grey towers of rock in the distance. “We’ve never tried our luck out there before.”

“Perhaps it will finally change,” Nomia said with a grin. She exchanged a quick look at Callisto, and then urged her horse onward. The trio raced along the sprawling treeline, through the long grasses, and finally across a few rolling hills—all of which grew increasingly rocky beneath her horse’s hooves. Still, the air felt cooler as they climbed in altitude, and the dip in temperature made her yearn for the cooler months even more. 

They only stopped when they came to the base of a mountain. The day was clear enough to let her see the winding pathways up the face of the giant, and she was quite sure she could see dark holes leading to dangerous places quite high up. 

“Do you see any goats?” Nomia inquired as she came to a halt by Artemis’s side. The pair studied the grey landscape, both wearing equally unimpressed expressions. “Perhaps Volstagg had a little too much wine in him…”

“Well, he wouldn’t be entirely wrong to assume there were goats in the mountains,” Artemis insisted. “The question is if he’s actually seen one.”

“Hmm.” She heard the girl sigh. “I had hoped we could catch something before the day is up. Our luck has been unbearable since we left Earth.”

“I suspect hunting in Asgard will only improve in time,” Artemis said. Well, she hoped it would, anyway. As much as she hated to admit it, the fact that they were without a kill for months was really starting to get at her. Yes, Volstagg had managed to accidentally kill something the last time they were out, but that was hardly enough to satisfy her hunger for the sport. “Otherwise, I shall lose my mind.”

“Me too.”

She held in her chuckle, but offered her handmaiden an amused grin instead; Nomia may have been the one most likely to feel at home in the palace, but the girl tried her hardest to throw every ounce of her being into the hunt. 

“Now, I would suggest we take the pathways by foot,” Artemis mused, eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene. “They don’t look wide enough to comfortably take the horses.”

“But should we leave them here?” Nomia inquired tentatively. “I mean, were there not wolves nearby earlier?"

“Yes, but—”

Callisto’s scream silenced her, and she whirled her horse around to find the source of the sound. There, right before her eyes, was a pair of the most grotesque trolls she had ever seen. One had Callisto around the waist, and the other shoved the nymph’s horse away so harshly that the beast toppled over. Without hesitation, Artemis kicked her horse’s sides, commanding the beast onward, and she quickly loaded her bow. However, everything happened so quickly; one moment they were there, and the next, they were scuttling up the mountain’s path with her beloved Callisto in tow. Nomia managed to lodge an arrow in one’s shoulder, but that barely seemed to slow them; she had never seen trolls move so quickly. 

Her arrow dug deep into the troll’s back, though it still scampered into the fog, taking Callisto with it. Artemis threw herself from her steed and raced up the path, arrow drawn and senses on high alert. However, the better portion of an hour that followed was wasted: Callisto was gone. She searched through the mist, into blackened caverns, and followed the pathway so high that Nomia was breathless behind her. Still, for all her effort, there was no reward. Enraged, she turned and stormed down the mountain; she would gather whatever forces she could and rain Hellfire on the being that dared to take her girl away.


	24. The False Queen Strikes

The palace corridors passed in a flurry of dark and light, the ornate stonework melding together as Artemis nearly flew down the halls. She had nearly ridden her steed to death in order to get back to the capital before the sun had set, and she left the weary beast in the capable hands of a stable boy without so much as a thought. Nomia struggled to keep up with her, huffing and puffing in her wake as servants darted out of her way. The Fury was in her eye, and had she the ability, she would have torn down every single mountain in the realm to find Callisto. 

Her sister, her friend, her most loyal servant—taken from her protection so easily. She would not stand for it. She planned to go straight to Odin to demand for her girl’s return, and should he refuse, she would find her own way—with much destruction—to get the nymph back. A panic coursed through her too: what if the trolls had already done away with Callisto? What if they had beheaded her and partaken in her milky flesh? 

The thoughts were terrible, but they propelled her onward. It was on the third floor of the grand palace that she finally found someone who could actually help her: Thor and Loki strolled side-by-side through the corridor, a casualness in their stance and faces that was easy to detect. Loki saw her first, and she immediately saw the change in his face, from mirth to concern, but she knew that she did not need to appeal to him. No, for times of aggression, it was Thor that she must plead her case to. 

“My lady—”

Her intended greeted her as she stalked toward them, but she held up a hand to stop them, a tremor in her voice when she spoke. 

“They took her,” she blurted, sharpness and anger in her tone. “Trolls came out of the mountain and took Callisto from right under my nose!”

“What?”

“How dare they?” she all but shrieked. She knew full well that her eyes were one push away from madness, but she hadn’t a care. Let them see her like this—let them see what her passion wrought. Let Thor see a maternal fury that would pass on to whatever children she bore him. “They took my girl and I must get her back!”

“What do you mean they took her?” Loki asked, his dark brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What does it sound like?” She hadn’t meant to be harsh with him, but his question dripped in such stupidity that it only spurred her fire. However, he seemed completely unfazed by it, and merely shook his head. 

“No, you misunderstand,” he said quickly, exchanging a look with his brother. “Trolls rarely come down from the mountains anymore… Our father banished them to their caves years ago.”

“Then they must have been very daring trolls,” Artemis spat, furious tears clinging to her lashes. “Daring and stupid, because I will remove their heads from their shoulders if they have harmed her—”

“We shot them,” Nomia added. Artemis looked over her shoulder at the human, touched by the emotion that she too displayed for Callisto. Perhaps her sorrow came from Artemis, whose feelings no doubt crept into the receptive human with nothing to hinder them. “We shot one twice and it carried on as though it were nothing!”

“Easy, sweet lady,” Thor cooed, stepping forth to place a hand on Nomia’s shoulder. Artemis saw the human tremble at the touch, her eyes heavy with grief. “Perhaps you should rest?”

“No!” the redhead pleaded. “No, we must find Callisto!”

“Go, Nomia,” Artemis said dismissively. Thor was right to send her away: as admirable as her feelings were, she would be no help in such a flustered state. “Eat, drink, and rest. I will bring Callisto back.”

The human stared at her for a moment, but then turned away without another word. She disappeared down the hallway quickly, darting sharply into a stairwell with a sob. 

“She is very upset,” Loki noted, his expression curious as he squinted in the direction that Nomia had fled. 

“We both are,” Artemis hissed, glaring at her lover. “They had no right to take her from me.”

“Go to the war chambers,” Thor instructed. “I will gather the Warriors Three, and we will find a way to bring her back.”

The weight on her chest lifted as she watched her intended march down the hallway. He was a man of action, of courage, and he did not take a single moment to question the validity of her tale. No, as she expected, he was keen for a fight. 

Artemis flinched when she felt a hand on her arm, and she followed Loki up several flights of stairs, stewing in her vengeful silence, until they reached the chamber Thor had suggested. 

“Please try to think clearly,” Loki told her as they entered the room. Round and open, it was a space at the apex of one of the smaller towers. There was a heavy wooden table in the center, upon which there was a white etching of the realm. Aside from a few metallic torches, the room was bare. Sheer curtains fluttered in the early evening breeze, and Artemis rounded on her lover furiously. 

“What did you just say to me?”

“You are understandably distraught that Callisto was taken,” Loki said soothingly, hands up as he descended upon her, “but do not let that cloud your judgement when the others are here.”

She slapped his hands away, nostrils flaring indignantly. “Do not assume that I am a woman troubled by her emotion.”

“No, I never thought that.”

“Then do not be presumptuous enough to say something like that to me,” she hissed. “I shall handle her disappearance in the manner that I see fit.”

“Of course.”

He stepped away, head bowed slightly, and Artemis stalked around him to the large table. She found the capital of the realm with ease, and then traced her finger along the route that she had taken earlier in the day for the hunt. It took her well across the province, down to the outskirts and the mountains that divided Asgard from Alfheim. 

“Here,” she told him, tapping the spot with her finger. “This is where they took her.”

Loki sighed by her shoulder, eyes narrowed as he studied the map. “You rode far today.”

“The hunt was plentiful,” she said absently, traveling over the mountain peaks with her fingertips. “Why would they take her?”

“That is a question I do not have the answer to,” he murmured. “Nor can I fathom the reason. The trolls are… The trolls are subservient to my father.”

“Clearly his grip has loosened.” And when Thor was her king, she would have him stamp the trolls out of existence. Both she and Loki looked back at the sound of Thor’s party approaching, and her lover quickly put an appropriate distance between them. 

“My lady,” Volstagg bellowed as Thor’s companions burst forth into the hall. “I am so sorry for Callisto’s kidnapping… Are you unhurt?”

“Decidedly so,” she told the robust warrior, her eyes flitting between the Warriors Three, Thor, and Lady Sif. They were an admirable war council, to be sure. “I want to get her back.”

“Trolls are tricky beasts,” Fandral mused as he approached the table, a hand resting on his sword. “They are smarter than the worlds give them credit for.”

“I have never met an intelligent troll,” Artemis droned. 

“Nor I.” It was Lady Sif who agreed with her, and Artemis cast her an appreciative smile. “Where were you when she was taken?”

“Here,” she told them, pointing to the large map once more. “And they disappeared with her along this pathway. I followed them the best I could, but clearly they have some superior knowledge of the mountain trails.”

“There are not many,” Loki interjected, arms folded across his chest as he stood between her and his brother. “Especially in that area, there are few places they can hide…”

“Perhaps we did not search hard enough.” No one could fault her in the way that she tore apart those trails. The fog had grown so heavy by the time she left that she almost lost Nomia too, and she couldn’t risk that. 

“What did they look like?” Lady Sif inquired as the group gathered tightly around the table. Artemis was silent for a moment, reflecting on every detail that she could recall. 

“They were the ugliest trolls I have ever seen,” she told them. “Their skin was so pale that it looked bathed in moonlight, but they had good clothing, black eyes—“

“Servants of Karnilla,” Thor growled as Artemis’s eyebrows shot up, “the false sovereign of Nornheim.”

“Nornheim?” she repeated, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden table so harshly that her knuckles had gone white. “As in… As in Nan from Nornheim? The prisoner who escaped after he threatened me?”

“We should have killed him,” Hogun said softly.

“He was a servant of the Norns, not Karnilla,” Loki insisted before Thor could, cutting his brother off smoothly. “The trolls belong to that traitorous wench.”

“And she surely sought to appease the Norns,” Lady Sif argued. “I suspect they have taken Callisto to the Norns… Perhaps to get your attention, my lady.”

“My attention?”

“Nan from Nornheim spoke of your presence with his mistresses,” Thor told her. “Perhaps they have sunk to alternative measures to get your attention?”

“Well, they certainly have it now,” she said, her voice low as she stalked along the large map to the province of Nornheim. “They made a mistake taking Callisto.”

She had no time for the Norns or their prophecies, and yet they seemed bent on getting her to notice them. After Nan had disappeared, she thought that was the last she would ever think of Nornheim and its purple-tongued servant, and yet here they were, insulting her for a second time. Artemis would not stand for it. Her gaze turned hard as she glared at the small province in the map. 

“Karnilla has grown too bold lately,” she heard Thor say at the other end of the table. “Callisto may not be of Asgard by birth, but she is ours to protect.”

Her heart warmed to him just a hint at his words, and she felt a pulse of excited energy course through her limbs at the look on his face: war-hungry. 

“Thor, you cannot—”

Loki tried to protest, but his brother spoke over him, stepping around her lover and stalking toward her. 

“We will march on Nornheim, my lady,” Thor told her, taking both of her hands in his and bringing them to his chest, “and we will take Callisto back.”

“I have no desire to see the Norns,” she told him warily. “I will not listen to the words of deceitful oracles.”

“And you will not have to,” he promised earnestly. “We will ride out and take back what is ours, and we will remind Karnilla’s forces that Asgard controls the realms, not Nornheim.”

She smiled as the Warriors Three rumbled eagerly behind them; even Lady Sif seemed to brighten at the prospect of battle. 

“They should be put in their place,” Volstagg agreed. “My axe hungers for something more than a stag these days…”

Artemis didn’t care about some rebellious province growing too big beyond Odin’s gaze. No, all she wanted was the return of her sister. However, if that meant riding out to battle, she would happily pick up her bow and engage in the clamour where necessary. She didn’t think to question their assumption that Karnilla had taken Callisto: these people knew the realm, and they knew the politics of it. If the trolls she described belonged to the fake queen beyond the borders of the province, so be it. However, if they put in all of this effort to find Callisto and she discovered that the nymph was already dead, there would be no one to keep the people of Nornheim safe. 

They sought the wrath of an ill-tempered Moon Goddess, and she would show them what real fury could be. 

“We must leave tonight,” she urged, taking Thor by the shoulder to hold his gaze once more. “I cannot stand the thought of them having her for this long.”

“I will have servants ready our wares,” he promised with a nod. “Do you require weapons?”

“No,” she insisted. “A bow is enough for me.”

And the knife Loki had purchased for her the first time she visited Asgard’s marketplace. It was a gift she truly cherished, and it would probably come in handy in the near future. She then thought of Echo: the beast had grown large in recent weeks, but she was still unprepared for battle. The hound was slowly becoming more trained, but it would take time before she was ready for a true skirmish. No, Echo would stay behind with Nomia. 

“I shall have fresh arrows acquired for you,” Thor told her, a steely determination in his eye as he squeezed her arm. “This offense will not stand, my lady.”

“Good.”

“Come, my friends!” her intended boomed, beckoning his companions toward the doorway. “We need to prepare.”

“That was the shortest council we’ve ever held,” Fandral laughed as he followed the group out. “I wish all such meetings went that way…”

Artemis turned her attention back to Nornheim’s outline briefly. They would need to cross through Alfheim and the Norn Forest to reach Callisto, but she would travel to the ends of the world and beyond to bring the woman back. Lips pursed, she turned sharply with the intention of readying herself for the journey. However, she stopped short when she saw Loki had lingered at the end of the table, staring hard at Asgard’s capital city—a star marked on the wooden surface. She had no time for love right now, no time to ask for comfort. He would either give it to her or he would not, and she couldn’t busy herself with wondering how he would react. 

So, she marched across the room purposefully, and only stopped once when he spoke. 

“Please, stay here.”

She looked at him, though he refused to meet her gaze, and she let out a cool chuckle. “And wait for you all to return like some poor woman who watches her husband ride off to war?”

“I do not wish for you to go to battle,” he told her stubbornly. “I want you to be safe.”

“I am a hunter, Loki,” she snapped. “I will kill whatever tries to stop me from attaining my prize.”

“I want you to stay here—“

“How lucky for me,” she said through gritted teeth, “that that decision is not yours to make.”

Thor hadn’t even questioned the notion that Artemis would ride to Nornheim with the rest of them, and it irked her that her lover had the gall to make such protests. 

When he glanced up at her, she saw the hurt in his eye, the anger at her words, but she hadn’t the time to dwell on it. All it would have taken was a kiss to set him right, but Artemis barely had the desire to do so. No, there was much to do, and her lover would still love her when this was all over; Loki could wait.


	25. Our Blood is Boiling

Artemis decided she much preferred the Norn Forest to any of the ones she had seen in Asgard. The trees were darker, the vegetation richer. This made it somewhat difficult for the horses to travel across, but her steed performed just as admirably as she would have expected. In fact, her small beast fared better than many of the others, including Loki’s mare, who seemed to spook at the slightest of sounds once they crossed into a new territory. 

Once the decision to invade Nornheim was made, Thor had his servants prepare their horses for the trek across the provinces. Nomia was devastated that she had not warranted an invite to retrieve Callisto, but Artemis gave her handmaiden clear instructions to be waiting vigilantly for her return. Thor estimated the journey would take three days, though Loki added an extra based on the sheer fact that no one had any idea where Callisto was being kept. Seeing as the trolls belonged to some Witch Queen in Nornheim, the group collectively decided to storm her keep until Callisto’s location was revealed. Loki mapped out the most efficient route possible, and with their gear and supplies saddled to their hoses’ backs, the company set out that very night. 

Naturally, neither Odin nor Frigga was privy to the mission. Although Karnilla was technically an enemy of the realm, as she boasted to be a sovereign of a plot of land that belonged to the All-father, neither monarch had any desire to incite an actual conflict with her. Artemis, in a way, could understand Odin’s approach: she too had no intention of creating a war between the provinces, but she would happily throttle whoever thought it would be a wise idea to steal Callisto from her. Luckily enough, Loki and Lady Sif were far more diplomatic than she and Thor, which meant that there were at least two people ready to calm their tempers should things get out of control. 

The party swept across the Asgardian countryside, running their horses ragged as Artemis set the speed. They dismounted once they reached the damnable mountains where the trolls retreated within, and crossed the range over the course of the night and well into the following morning. When the horses could go no further, they rested and replenished their strength, but Artemis could not bring herself to sleep so early in the journey. No, she waited, pacing the makeshift camp at the far side of the mountain range—Callisto’s absence made it difficult to even consider sleep. 

Thor’s estimation proved grossly miscalculated, however, when the company broke out across Alfheim’s countryside. The terrain was thick and the air humid, which slowed the horses, and Artemis spent two miserable days crossing that horrid province alone. They then needed to reroute the company around the Enchanted Forest, which held too many dangers to bother with, and that added an extra day and a half to the trek. 

All things considered, the duration of the journey thus far was remarkable, but that was because Artemis refused to rest properly until they were within the Norn Forest. It was there that she and the others set up a proper camp, and she finally shut her eyes to sleep the remainder of the day away. She tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep for long, but whenever she awoke, she saw Loki watching her from a safe distance, his knees drawn to his chest and head resting on his arms. 

She knew she ought to thank him. She ought to take him aside and remind him that she cared very deeply for him, but she hadn’t the will to devote any of her time to her lover just yet. So, whenever he caught her eye, she smiled kindly, looking her most friendly when the others had their backs turned. Surely he must have realized that she would not have remained so calm if he hadn’t come with her—surely. Thor’s desire to pause at a nobleman’s castle had provoked her ire two days earlier, and she still hadn’t shaken the annoyance she felt whenever she looked at him. 

He hadn’t made the suggestion again—thankfully—but she assumed it was because Loki talked him out of such a detour and not because he realized how upset it had made her. Still, she also tried not to give that situation much thought either; if she couldn’t give her thoughts to Loki, she certainly wasn’t about to give them to Thor. 

Once the group had properly rested, Artemis was anxious to get moving again. To their credit, no one seemed put off by her anxious attitude; the group moved when she demanded it, and she wondered if Thor’s companions were falling into their future roles as servants of Asgard’s new queen. The idea made her uneasy, but if it meant it kept them all moving, she would take it—for now. Her attitude also seemed to keep the group focused on the purpose of their mission. Whenever they all hunted together, their banter and pointless chatter drove Artemis to madness, and yet now they held their tongues, speaking only of the mission and other serious matters. 

She had misjudged them. 

“There is a clearing beyond these trees…”

She perked when Hogun announced the impending end to the Norn Forest, and two swift kicks to her steed’s side brought her next to the soft-spoken warrior. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to see what he saw, and she then nodded when she spotted brief openings that yielded more light than she had seen since she entered the wooded area. The trees kept out the sunlight, though their eyes had quickly adjusted to the darkness early on in their march. 

Her eyes flickered to her right when Thor’s large beast thundered up beside her, and the duo led the company onward with gusto, urging their horses into a frenzy on the final stretch of woodland. For a fleeting moment, she enjoyed the way her steed wove through the trees, the loose straggles of hair around her head finally caught in a breeze again. However, she was forced to bring her beast to a trot when she realized that an open valley was not the only thing that awaited her on the other side of the last tree. 

Brows furrowed, she slowed her horse right down when Thor did the same, and she let her intended take the lead in regards to the small group of soldiers awaiting them at the edge of the forest. She then shot a quick look over her shoulder to Loki, who seemed equally wary of the welcome party, and just to be safe, she removed her bow from its resting place across her person, and instead let it rest on one shoulder. Her quiver was latched securely around her steed’s midsection, and it would be quite easy to reach for an arrow if the need arose. 

The air was immediately cooler once she broke free from the forest’s grasp, twisting her shoulder irritably as a thorny vine clung to her brown cloak on the last gallop. It was only a small party that stood before her, but the jagged blades strapped to their waists added an extra air of intimidation—not for her, but they would have for someone who had seen less of the worlds. The valley that lay behind them was nothing like the forest they had burst forth from: instead of thickness and density, there was vast nothingness aside from the yellowing grass. If she squinted, she thought she saw a lake somewhere in the distance, but it would have easily been a trick played by the sun, which beat down without any hindrance from the clouds. 

“Halt, Asgardians.”

The leader of the company stepped forth, moving on foot and craning his head up to observe Thor through narrowed slits. Artemis’s eyes swept across the man, noting that he also looked Asgardian; the way he spoke the word, however, indicated something different. His armor was styled similarly to the ones she had seen around the palace, though Asgardian security officials were usually in red, whereas these men were robed entirely in black. 

“You do not speak to some ordinary Asgardian, soldier,” Thor barked as he tried to settle his horse, who seemed antsy in the presence of the new arrivals. “You address your prince and his brother, and the future queen of the realm.”

Artemis cocked an eyebrow when several pairs of eyes drifted listlessly in her direction, though she kept her face neutral. 

“We are not here for conflict,” Loki added smoothly. “We come with no tidings of war—”

“Queen Karnilla is aware of your intentions,” the soldier said, his head cocked to the side. “That is why only Artemis of Olympus is permitted to travel any farther.”

Thor laughed noisily. “Do you intend to stop a prince from entering his lands? Step aside.”

“If you ride beyond this forest, Asgardian,” the soldier continued, each word deliberate—as though Thor was a simpleton, “then you belie your intentions, and we shall be forced to intervene.”

“We outnumber you,” Volstagg interjected as Artemis smoothed her hand down her horse’s side: he grew twitchy in the sunlight, tail flicking this way and that.

“Only the Lady Artemis may enter Nornheim safely,” the soldier reiterated. “She has been called by the Norns, and Queen Karnilla honours that.”

Artemis’s jaw clenched: she had no intention of seeing the Norns formally. If they held Callisto, then she would see them long enough to put an arrow in their wretched hearts. 

“I will not let my intended wander through Nornheim alone,” Thor said sharply. “We will be her escort to the Norn Keep.”

“You must understand why there is some level of mistrust,” Loki told them. Artemis shot him a look, pleased with the civility in his tone. “You did meet us in arms, after all.”

“And you ride into our land armed,” the soldier countered. He turned his attention back to Artemis, who tried to remain unimpressed with the situation. “The Olympian is capable of defending herself, and Queen Karnilla has forbid her armies to harm her. She will have safe passage to the Norn Keep—“

“This is wasting time,” Artemis snapped. “I have need to find my handmaiden, and this bickering only prolongs her imprisonment.”

“You will find the nymph with the Norns, Lady Artemis,” the soldier told her, meeting her gaze boldly. “Travel to the south… across the plains and into the forest that houses the Sisters Three. You will find your girl, and your destiny, there.”

She tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, but it happened anyway.

“We all ride together,” Thor said, finality to his words. “Step aside.”

“If you enter this land, we will respond accordingly—“

Artemis smirked as Thor urged his horse forward, and the beast surged toward the company as though its very life depended on getting around them. She expected the small company to draw their swords, to attack the oncoming riders, but before their horses could reach the men, they disappeared. The movement was so startling that it sent her horse rearing upward, whinnying loudly at the sudden lack of solid being in front of him. Her horse’s reaction also startled Loki’s mare, which triggered a bit of a snit from Lady Sif’s horse too. Once the trio settled their hoses—Artemis needed to ride hers back and forth for some time to calm him—and regrouped, they realized that they were completely alone in the field. 

“Karnilla’s magic is far-reaching,” Loki mused as they fell back into a caravan, Thor leading the way. “She did not send them to fight.”

“Why did she send them?” she asked, eyes peeled across the horizon for signs of any other warriors. 

“I suspect they were here to deliver a message,” he told her. There was a slight pause, and she saw his face screwed in concentration. “I also suspect they will not be the only members of her militia that we face on this journey.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“As do I,” he assured her, “but I sincerely doubt that I am.”

She nodded as he urged his horse up, passing Volstagg and Fandral until he reached Thor. The pair conversed very briefly, but Thor seemed to brush him off before anything was accomplished. Instead, her intended urged his horse into a full-tilt gallop, which the others followed shortly after. 

They traveled for the remainder of the day at such a speed, stopping only occasionally to let the horses rest. While the Norn Forest had been full of vegetation of all sorts (even the unpleasant kind), the landscape of Nornheim left much to be desired, and Artemis wasn’t entirely sure why Odin would even want to take it from Karnilla—let her rule over a land of crinkly, yellowing grass and rocks. 

As the sun began to set, they passed into a forest that appeared to be dying, and Artemis wondered if they had reached the woodland that the soldier spoke of. The trees were gnarled and bent, twisted and deformed, reaching for the riders in a deadened silence. If the horses had been uneasy in the Norn Forest, they were even more on edge in this one, and Artemis was forced to whisper soothing words to her beast to urge him beyond a rotted tree trunk. 

If they were trying to be stealthy in their approach, they failed miserably as soon as they entered the wood. The dry grasses and twigs crunched beneath her horse’s hooves, and sometimes it felt like the group’s collective breathing could be heard for miles. Still, Artemis pressed onward, up at the front of the group beside Thor, while Loki was less than a few steps behind them. Every so often, she would glance at her lover over her shoulder, though they had stopped exchanging smiles on the Nornheim plain. There was a darkness that crept into the soul of the woodland, and she fretted over the thought of Callisto—a nymph of nature—being kept in such a dreadful place. 

Suddenly, her horse came to a startling halt, as though it had walked into a wall. The beast threatened to rear again, but she managed to maintain control of his reigns, her eyes narrowed at the unseen obstacle. They stopped directly at the apex of a hill, and as she peered below into the treeless dip, she saw a great fort built of mud and earth, surrounded by pyres and armed warriors. The army stood in silence, no man—or creature, as there were pale-faced beings similar to the trolls she had seen amongst them—stirred. Instead, they lined up in their ranks on either side of a wide bridge that led up to the circular fortress. No windows, one door, and a domed roof awaited her. 

“How am I supposed to pass?” she demanded, turning her question back to Loki rather than to Thor. However, it was her intended who responded first: he leapt from his beast, the mighty Mjolnir in hand, and strode forward. Strangely enough, he was able to march down the crest of the hill. 

“She’s taken us from our horses,” Loki muttered as the rest dismounted. 

“Well, I suppose it’s almost a fair fight now,” Fandral said as he marched after Thor, sword in hand. Artemis exchanged a glance with the Lady Sif, and before she joined the rest, she threw her quiver over her shoulder, her large bow in hand. 

The ground felt even more deadened beneath her feet, and she wished to be gone from this forest. There was no game to be seen, no sparkling brooks or thick bushes—Artemis had no affection for this sort of place. 

“You were warned, Asgardian, that you ought not enter this land.” The same soldier from before addressed Thor as the group closed in on the awaiting warriors. Although she hadn’t the time to properly count, if she had to guess, Artemis assumed there was roughly nine warriors from Nornheim for every member of her group to deal with. 

“This land belongs to my father,” Thor bellowed, his red cape swinging back and forth as he sauntered toward the speaker. “I can go where I wish, whenever I wish.”

“You bring tidings of war,” the warrior insisted, and as though it were a queue, his companions straightened, a hand reaching for their weapons. “You will be treated accordingly.” 

“Enough,” Artemis barked, stepping forth and striding across the group to stand next to Thor. “My handmaiden is being held hostage inside that fort… I want only to retrieve her and be gone. No one comes with war in mind.”

“You were permitted to travel alone, sweet lady,” the soldier insisted, “and you may enter still… but your companions are not welcome.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki and Sif spread out across the warriors on her left, while the Warriors Three fanned out across the right flank. 

“If you attack us, it’s treason,” Loki called. “You will invoke the wrath of your king—“

“We have no king,” the warrior told them. “Queen Karnilla has instructed me to keep her lands safe, and so I shall.”

“This is absurd,” Artemis scoffed, her grip tightening on the smooth wood of her bow. “Why am I given safe passage and my friends are not? I am to be the queen soon—“

“You are a guest of the Norns,” the warrior interrupted. She bit her cheek to keep from snapping at him. “You are also only an archer.”

She blinked back her confusion, shaking her head slightly. “I beg your pardon?”

“An archer hides and fights from a distance,” he insisted, nodding down to her bow as he took a step forward. “They are no real threat.”

“I am a threat to be reckoned with,” she ground out, and her limbs trembled when the warrior chuckled. 

“Sweet lady—”

“Do not address my intended with such familiarity,” Thor ordered, holding out the Mjolnir to keep the soldier at a suitable distance. “Step aside and let us pass… We will collect my lady’s handmaiden and leave.”

“Peacefully,” Loki added. 

“If the gentle Artemis of Olympus wishes to enter the Norn Keep, she may do so.” The warrior extended his hands to her, a glint of wickedness in his eye. “Shall I hold her things for her while we real warriors sort our differences out in the proper way?”

It was then that she snapped. She held her bow firmly and thrust the metal-tipped end upward, slicing across the man’s chin and cheek in one swift movement. Before he—or any of his companions—had time to react, she cut the bow under his shins and knocked him to the ground, and then rammed the pointed tip of her weapon into the fleshy part of his throat. He gave one last dying gasp, arms flailing in an effort to remove her recently modified bow from his neck, but became still when she twisted it down further. 

From there, the fighting was almost instantaneous. Thor nudged her aside as he leapt forward, slamming his mighty hammer into the oncoming barrage of warriors as though he was batting a group of pesky fruit flies on a warm day. The others seemed more evenly matched with the numbers, and she darted back to take a few shots from a good distance. 

As the warrior claimed, archers did fight from afar; she wouldn’t have lost his temper if he had found a more delicate way to say it. She picked off about six of the Nornheim fighters who were trying to overwhelm Lady Sif, and then turned her attention to ridding Loki of his pesky attackers. To his credit, he seemed to handle them well on his own, and a small smile tugged at her lips when a whole trio of Loki-duplicates danced around a single warrior, who seemed at a loss who he ought to swing at first; Artemis’s arrow cut the decision short. 

“Artemis!”

Her arrow missed its target embarrassingly when she heard Callisto’s voice, and she whirled around to face the Keep once more. The nymph was nowhere to be seen, but when she heard the cry again, she started onward. None of the warriors touched her, and she assumed it was because their sovereign had made her orders quite clear: Artemis is for the Norns. 

So be it. Let them make the mistake of underestimating her yet again, and she would be the one to come out victorious. 

The ground was gritty beneath her sandaled feet as she marched across the wide bridge, and the sounds of battle soon fell to deaf ears when she heard her name called once more. The door remained closed as she approached, but once she set her hand on the rough wooden paneling, she was suddenly encased in a cool, dark room. The battle was gone, as was the noise and the heat and the clamour of swords. Instead, all she could hear was Callisto’s call, the desperation in her voice. She set her bow on her shoulder once more, and then ventured onward into the bleak blackness of the room. 

For some time, it was only sound that guided her, but when she found a small passageway at the far side of the room, there was a light to help her—torches here and there to show her where she was going. The air was still and dead, even worse so here than in the wood, but she pressed on. Soon, the hall grew narrower, and at one point she was forced to turn sideways in order to keep going. However, some careful maneuvering saw her through a few tricky spots; her constant reassurance was the way Callisto’s voice grew louder the more she walked, and she knew she was headed in the right direction. 

She grunted when her foot collided with what felt like the base of a stair at the end of a hall where the torches burned so low that it was difficult to see again. This time, she was able to walk forward, but Thor certainly would not have fit in such a place. Awkwardly readjusting her bow, she stepped up and on to the raised ground, and then set forward with the anticipation that there was another step. However, her foot met nothing on the other side, and Artemis gave a surprised cry when she tumbled forward and down a painfully hard—and slightly damp—ramp. 

When she rolled out of the mess, she found herself in a brightly lit circular chamber. As she pushed herself to her feet, she could feel the wetness on the ground, feel the humidity in the air—it was a complete change from the rest of the fortress. 

“Artemis!”

Her eyes widened when she spied a ragged Callisto across a small pond, and she raced around it before collapsing in front of the nymph. 

“I’m so sorry I was not here sooner,” she whispered, cupping the blonde’s cheeks as she searched for wounds. “Are you hurt?”

“Only a little,” Callisto croaked. Her poor hair was in tangled, and there was an open wound across her cheekbone that made her flinch. Had the light been better, Artemis was sure she would have seen a dark bruise around her left eye, and the very sight of her beloved Callisto made her fury bubble dangerously close to the surface. 

“Artemis of Olympus.”

Her grip on Callisto grew hard when she heard the rasp of an old woman, and she was forced to pry her hands away before she did any real damage. Behind her, across the murky pond, stood three crones—hooded and stooped—clutching an excess of strings between them. Their faces were covered in shadow, but she could see the crackled skin on one’s chin. 

“I am not here to consult with you,” she hissed, loading her bow and holding it at the ready by her side. “You stole from me.”

“You did not accept our invitation,” the middle sister told her. “We realized other measures must be taken.”

“I have no desire to converse with you,” she said tightly. “I am here for Callisto, and nothing more.”

“We kept her safe—”

“She looks broken!”

“Karnilla’s servants are not the most graceful of beasts, but no harm has come to her in our care.”

Lies. The wound on Callisto’s cheek looked fresh, but Artemis bit her tongue. She wasn’t going to talk to them, nor would she argue with them. Instead, she intended to collect her girl and leave. 

“We have seen what you bring to Asgard,” the sister on the far right said as she turned away. “Your affair with the prince will be the realm’s undoing.”

Her limbs felt cold as the crone spoke, and, unable to resist herself, she faced them once more. 

“I have very little time or patience for false oracles from foreign lands,” she told them, a tremor in her voice. 

“Through your deeds, you will bring about the Ragnarök.”

“What—”

“The apocalypse,” the left sister clarified, “the end of the Realm Eternal. Your actions have set a new thread in motion.” Artemis’s eyebrows shot up as the crone lifted a black string for her to see, as though it was supposed to mean something. “You must give up the younger brother and take your proper place on Asgard’s throne… whole and faithful to Thor.”

“This really could have been communicated in a letter,” she sneered, her face flushed at the accusation. “There are men dying on your step because you saw fit to drag me across the provinces for lies.”

“Never lies—”

“My brother is the master of all oracles,” she shouted, pointing toward the exit as though Apollo lurked in the tunnel she had fallen from. “I barely have faith in the Fates… You must be mad to think I would listen to the words of false prophets.”

“But listen you shall,” the middle sister instructed. “Listen and change, or all those who dwell in these fair lands will perish.”

“Enough—”

“You must heed the warning.”

“Enough!” Artemis raised her bow and fired an arrow straight into the gut of the Norn sister in the middle, and then covered her ears as a thunderous screeching commenced. The one she struck fell forward and into the pond, and the others dropped their strings, shrieking and wailing as they tried to pull her out. 

“My lady—”

“Come!” Artemis took Callisto by the hand and hauled the trembling nymph to her feet. Then, without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she pushed the girl toward the tunnel from whence she came and instructed her to climb—climb before the sound deafened them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being sooo slack at uploading these. I've dedicated one day a week to fanfiction, so you can expect a weekly update going forward.


	26. Secret Secrets

Artemis was rarely one to indulge in her sense of pride. She could acknowledge her triumphs, and tended to do so in a rather clinical way. However, the fact that she could lead a wounded and shaken Callisto through the dark mazes of the Norns’ fortress was a feat that she would be forever proud of. Finding the door to the surrounding woodland was a mission in itself, but she eventually found her way back into the room that was her first sight within the fortress, and from there it was a matter of using what little helpful magic she had to illuminate the door. 

She tumbled through it, as though the barrier suddenly let up as she and Callisto shoved against it, and came to an abrupt halt when she surveyed the scene before her; Callisto gasped by her side. While there may have been a manageable amount of Nornheim warriors before she disappeared in the fortress, their numbers seemed to have swelled in the meantime. All of her companions looked positively overwhelmed by the sheer volume of men and other beasts hurling themselves at them, waves upon waves of bodies pouring down into the small clearing from the rear of the fortress. 

She took a moment to let the situation sink in, to acknowledge that this was no longer a simple rescue mission, and then reloaded her bow. Callisto took the knife from her ankle without asking, but Artemis saw no reason to chastise her for it: the Norns had seen Artemis, they had delivered their message, and she assumed that meant she was no longer safe within the province borders. Over the roar of battle, she heard her steed whinny for her attention at the top of the hill, striding this way and that as his fellow horses watched on. While he may have been small, he was a beast meant for battle—that much was now apparent. 

Loki had chosen a horse that would protect her in any danger: small and flighty, it would just as easily charge into battle as it would whisk her away. It seemed by sheer chance that the warriors paid the beasts no mind, and after her eyes swept across the treeline, she saw that all of the horses remained intact. 

Drawing her bow, Artemis fired a shot at the man who had climbed onto Loki’s back and had him by the neck; the body plummeted to the ground limply when her arrow stuck in his skull. Loki whirled back, face screwed in concentration and irritation, and she saw it soften briefly when he realized who had rescued him. The moment was short-lived, unfortunately, as there was no shortage of warriors to take the fallen one’s place. She continued to shoot into the crowd, picking off those who came dangerously close to ending her companions. 

Even Thor seemed to struggle with the sheer volume of assailants, but he managed to barrel his way through the horde. Following his lead, Artemis grabbed Callisto and dragged her into the fight, knocking and shoving and stabbing her way through. To her credit, Callisto was exceptionally skilled at ramming the smooth tip of her dagger into the weak spots of a soldier’s armor: neck, armpit, and waist. Still, for all her efforts, it seemed there was always another man to get out of the way. Thor said nothing to her as he surged up to her side, and they continued to pick off men who dared approach them. 

A bead of sweat rolled down from her hairline, and the smell of battle was starting to clog her nostrils. Artemis was not a warrior. She was not one to leap into battle—unless Apollo asked her to—and she rarely interfered with such human affairs. She was a hunter: this arena was not where she was at her best. 

Eventually, she was forced to start retrieving her wasted arrows, yanking them from dead and dying men in order to stick another before they got to her. The Warriors Three soon found their way to Thor’s side, followed shortly by Lady Sif and Loki. They knocked into one another, her and Loki, and they stayed within an arm’s reach as they fended off warriors together. 

“Pretty situation we find ourselves in,” Fandral called over the grunts and groans of battle. “It seems we’re slightly outnumbered.”

“I have no desire to stay,” Artemis insisted, turning to regard Thor as Callisto defended her front. “We should find a way out.”

“Nonsense,” Thor mused. “This is but a skirmish—”

“Thor,” Loki bellowed. “We cannot hope to defeat them all.”

“I did not come all this way to rescue Callisto so that she could die on the front steps,” Artemis told her betrothed as gravely as she could. “We must leave!”

Her intended flinched when Volstagg’s axe swung near his head, but he seemed to give her request some serious contemplation. With a nod, he tightened his grip on the Mjolnir, raising it above his head and then slamming it to the hard ground. Artemis cried out as the forest floor trembled beneath her, though they seemed safe from the effects the closer they stood to Thor. The warriors around them, however, were thrown back, landing in clusters of people: wounded, dead, and dying men alike were not spared from the shockwave. 

“To the horses,” Loki ordered, pushing her forward as they started toward the steep incline. She grabbed Callisto’s hand as she leapt over the fallen bodies of groaning men and monsters, careful not to lose her footing on an arm or leg. 

“They’re stirring!” Lady Sif’s observation was unnecessary, though perhaps slipped from her lips in a moment of panic. Although Thor’s assault seemed to keep their enemies down for some time, it wasn’t long enough to grant them safe passage all the way up the hill. Callisto shoved her dagger into a man who grabbed Artemis by the ankle, and she did her best to fend off the others, slamming the ends of her bow into faces and chests to keep them down. 

Her horse was almost hurting himself as he tried to reach her, stomping and whinnying and chomping at nearby soldiers as she approached. Taking Callisto by the waist, she threw the nymph onto the beast, and then snatched the dagger from her hand and wedged it into the eye of a warrior who came too close. He screamed when she twisted the blade, and Artemis kicked him back down the hill onto the bodies of his comrades. She then leapt up onto her horse behind Callisto, her bow slung across her body, and turned the beast away from the din of battle. Her companions seemed to do the same, but the rallying cry of Norn warriors happened too quickly. 

She shot a look over to Thor, but he seemed at a loss for their next course of action. He studied the rising soldiers with what appeared to be growing frustration, and then urged his horse onward. Perhaps they were meant to outrun the army?

Kicking her horse sharply in the sides, she surged forward after her intended, the hooves of nearby horses pounding in her ears. The beasts were louder than the men, but they were one beast short on their retreat. She frowned when she realized Loki was not among them. Instead, he remained at the peak of the hill, sitting atop his beast with his hands in the air. She called for him twice as the others rode on, but he seemed to ignore her. 

“My lady, we should go,” Callisto insisted, taking the reins from her and encouraging her horse to move forward. They darted through the thin trees, and every so often, Artemis glanced back at Loki. She half-expected to see him engulfed in warriors: the men were eager for the blood of Asgardians. Instead, she saw a billowing cloud of dark grey smoke wafting across the trees and into the dip. Magic. The forest stunk of Loki’s power as she urged her horse onward, and it wasn’t until she broke through the treeline on the far side, cantering into the yellow, crackly grass of the valley, that she stopped feeling the sensations, the hum of magical activity.

The sun appeared to be on the verge of setting, and now that they were free from the wretched forest, she could see the amber hue cast across the sky. She was in a sea of fire it seemed, surrounded by yellow earth and an orange sky, and she wanted nothing more than to see Loki race forth from the darkened wood. Her breathing was heavy, as was her heart, when she rounded her beast to face the forest. The others were in the process of calming their beasts, and Callisto leaned forward on her steed’s head, perhaps unable to hold herself up for long. 

There was nothing. There was nothing for so long, and she shot Thor a look: how could he not rush back in after his brother. Her intended spoke softly with Lady Sif instead, and she turned her attention back to the forest, her jaw clenched. 

Suddenly, the forest seemed to belch the dark smoke she had seen earlier, and it furled out from every pore and into the field. From the midst of it, a lone rider burst forth, and Artemis couldn’t keep the smile from her lips as she watched Loki urge his mare headlong for the group. As he neared, Thor and the others started up again, their horses thundering across the decaying valley. 

“The fog will follow each man for the remainder of the day,” Loki told her as he approached. “It will engulf the forest and keep them… until Karnilla catches wind of it.”

“Is her magic stronger than yours?”

“Sometimes.”

She wanted to touch him as he approached—Artemis wanted to kiss him. But she merely smiled and stroked his mare’s side once before kicking her beast sharply. They raced across the valley in tandem, catching up to the group as best they could. Behind them, grey fog swallowed the grass and field, and the confused cries of cursed soldiers echoed well into the night. 

* * *

Loki rarely had a reason to hold his head up high amongst Thor and the others. He was seldom invited out on missions of this nature, where fighting and strength were prized above all else, and when he was, he usually made a fool of himself. He was a warrior. He had trained alongside Thor when they were boys, and he had gone to war with the rest of them under his father’s command. However, warfare wasn’t where he excelled and everyone knew it. He had stopped feeling disheartened when the others did not include him on their adventures, but perhaps today would change that. 

He managed to hold himself in battle just as well as the others had, and he even saved Hogun twice from a pair of grotesque Norn demons who went for the warrior’s head. Weariness started to take him shortly before Artemis resurfaced from her venture into the Norn Fortress, but he knew he could have continued for as long as it was necessary. However, it was in their hasty retreat that Loki truly showed why he ought to be taken a little more seriously. The cloaking spell was one he seldom used, but instead it was one he had perfected in his early years of magic for moments when he would need it. 

Shrouding oneself in shadows was something else entirely; this was a spell that would confuse one’s enemies enough to make a speedy getaway. He merely had to hope that Karnilla would not hear of the assault, because as strong as his magic was, the older witch had more power in her. Naturally, he kept that little secret to himself, preferring to let Artemis think that he had the ability to outwit the Witch Queen of Nornheim, and he would hold that information close to his chest until it was no longer true. One day, in the distant future, Loki assumed Karnilla would try to wipe out her only other truly formidable magic foe in the realms, and he needed to stop getting distracted with his affair and really practice. 

Today hadn’t been about luck. Loki’s magic was precise and effective, and that was the reason the group was able to escape across the open field without a single soldier finding them. They rode their horses hard, not stopping until they reached the Norn Forest in the north. Once they were in the forest’s protection, Thor insisted they find a place to settle for the night: not only were their horses exhausted, but they all had wounds that could use tending to. After the companions made a makeshift camp in a small clearing, Artemis took Loki to forage for food, as their supplies were running low. 

On any other occasion, he would have been thrilled to be alone with her in the darkness, working their way through a strange forest with their hands clasped. However, Artemis was distracted, and not once did he dare to stop her to steal a kiss. After all, he could understand her wandering mind: Callisto’s injuries needed some actual medical treatment, and Artemis refused to let anyone see to the nymph except for her. So, while his lover put a valiant effort into finding edible fruits from underbrush—she even managed to shoot a scurrying mass of fur at one point—and the like, Loki knew she would have rather been with her handmaiden. Therefore, he kept the journey short, insisting that everyone would survive on limited rations until they at least reached Alfheim. From there, surely they could find allies who would give them a proper meal. 

When they returned to the site, Callisto had fallen asleep with her head on Fandral’s lap. Although Artemis stiffened at the sight, Loki merely watched her shoulders slump as the blond warrior watched her apprehensively. Rather than broach him on the issue, she let her handmaiden sleep, and Loki helped her prepare a broth with the meat of the animal she found and what little supplies they had remaining. The camp was silent as they worked; battle was a tiring foe. 

When the meal was prepared, Artemis distributed the soup to their companions, and they sat next to one another as they ate in silence. The pot remained over the stove, heating the remainder for Callisto when she awoke; Artemis watched her the entire time. The nymph did eventually stir, groaning and easing herself off of Fandral’s undoubtedly stiff legs. He waved off her apologies kind-heartedly, but he was quick to jump to his feet and take a walk, shaking each leg as he did. 

Artemis set her bowl aside and stood, leaving him alone on the fallen tree they had sat on for the better part of the last hour. In her place, his brother settled next to him, nudging his shoulder and smiling when their eyes met. The contact was brief, and both turned their attention to Artemis. The woman had propped her handmaiden up against a tree and was seeing to the gash on her cheek, which appeared to have hardened already. 

“You did well today, brother,” Thor murmured quickly before scooping a spoonful of broth into his mouth. Loki tried his best to keep his smile small, but it was more difficult than usual. 

“Thank you.”

“But we cannot tell Father,” he continued. “He cannot know there was even a skirmish involved in this…”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his opinion to himself. Naturally, when Thor rode off a field in victory, there was a damn celebration to commemorate the day. However, when Loki was triumphant, it was only at a time when no one that mattered was allowed to know. Artemis had seen his cleverness that afternoon, but no one back home would ever catch a whiff of his success—not a single soul. 

“I agree,” he managed. “He will be upset if he knows how vast the battle was in the end.”

“Hmm. Yes.” 

“But it would be best he heard something from us,” Loki reasoned, his eyes on Artemis’s back as she crouched in front of her handmaiden. “He will be far angrier if he hears rumors from Karnilla.”

“As if he would believe rumors from Karnilla,” Thor said with a chuckle, setting his bowl aside and knitting his fingers together on his lap. “Don’t be absurd, brother.”

“It could happen—”

“Unlikely,” his brother insisted. “You mustn’t let your imagination get the better of you.”

If it hadn’t been for Loki’s imagination, they would have had to outrun an army today, and they would likely still be running. He let out a lengthy sigh, head slumping down as he rested his elbows on his knees. 

“Yes, how silly of me.”

“Hush,” Artemis snapped, turning Callisto’s head sharply to the side, as though to see the wound in the firelight. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched the nymph nod fretfully, her eyes wet with tears. There was very little gentleness with the way Artemis cleaned her wounds: she took a small vial of boiled water and a clean rag to wipe away the hardened blood, and then retrieved a thread and needle from her bag. Callisto seemed even less comfortable as her mistress started to sew her injury shut, but Artemis paid no mind to it. She did, however, let her handmaiden dig her sharp little nails into her thigh, and Loki watched the nimble digits flex whenever Artemis tugged too tightly on her face. 

He would have guessed nymphs healed better than that: an Asgardian’s wound rarely stayed open for long, and they tended not to scar. However, Artemis seemed intent on closing the gash as much as she possibly could, and Loki realized there was still much more to learn about the inhabitants of his home. 

“Even now,” Thor started, “she does not take nonsense.”

“Are you surprised?” Loki shot his brother a look, but his smile faltered when he noticed the way Thor observed Artemis. There was a glimmer of… something in his eye, something Loki had not seen yet since Artemis had walked into their lives. 

“The nymph is lucky to have her.”

“Yes, she is.” He licked his lips, still observing Thor’s profile as his brother watched his intended work. He certainly did not like the way he stared at her—not one bit. “I suspect she will take the same approach with your children.”

“I should hope so,” his brother mused. “I want a strong wife. Today has brought out her strength.”

His jaw clenched, and he wondered just how much of their conversation his lover could hear. She was far enough that snippets could be missed, but he knew she would not like them talking about her as though she couldn’t hear a single word of it. 

“She has always been strong, brother,” he murmured, swatting at Thor’s arm as he rose. His brother said nothing to the statement, and Loki sidled over to the fire to see if there was enough broth left for a second helping. He wrinkled his nose as he leaned over the pot: just enough for Callisto. 

He glanced back at Artemis, and when he saw that she was nearly finished with Callisto’s stitches, he opted to fill a bowl for the handmaiden himself. When he turned, he noticed Thor still studying her appreciatively, eyes sweeping up and down her crouched frame. However, when Sif rose and sauntered across his line of sight, stretching her toned arms upward and arching her back just enough, Loki watched Thor’s attention shift and stay there. 

His grip hardened around the small bowl in his hands. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t allowed to have both, and yet when the night passed into morning, his older brother would have everything he wanted and more. He was to be king. He would have a wife and a queen, and he would no doubt keep a lover on the side in secret. The same may not be said for Artemis; Loki could only hope. 

“Is that for Callisto?”

Artemis’s voice brought him out of his frustrated daze, and he blinked rapidly as he looked down at the bowl. 

“Yes.”

“Bring it here then,” she ordered. She sounded weary, but there was no harshness to her tone. Instead, as Loki approached, she settled down next to her handmaiden and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Callisto grinned at the sight of the bowl, hands extended as he kneeled down before them, and she eagerly slurped the liquid back. Artemis smiled, resting her head against Callisto’s matted hair, and when their eyes met, he could hear every word she wanted to say reverberate in his mind. He said nothing, of course, but merely smiled in return and rose, dusting his knees off as he did. 

Thor continued to watch his lover, and as Loki settled near Hogun in an effort to get some sleep, he could feel his stomach turn anxiously: this did not bode well for him.


	27. Rough Love

All of her companions had been thrilled to be back in palace comfort, but Artemis kept her opinion to herself: she missed sleeping outdoors. Although the journey to and from Nornheim had been exhausting, she preferred a bed of leaves and sticks to the plush comfort that awaited her in Asgard. When the party returned, they were brought before Odin and Frigga without a moment to get settled. Naturally, the All-father seemed far too aware of what had happened in their absence, and while she noticed his displeasure almost immediately, he kept his opinion to himself. In fact, he went so far as to ask Callisto if she was unharmed; the nymph too was so startled that she barely managed to stutter out a response. 

Still, despite Odin’s disapproval over the reason behind their quest, no one in the party received any sort of verbal lashing. She wasn’t sure what happened when she disappeared, but perhaps Odin was giving Thor a little extra rope these days. After all, his eldest son was about to succeed him as king, and now seemed to be the time that Thor ought to learn to live with the decisions he makes—even if it was, in fact, her request to begin with. 

Nomia was thrilled to see Callisto return, spouting off nonsense about trivial fears that only managed to make the blonde nymph uncomfortable. The pair spent the night of the return bathing Callisto, tending to her wounds, and untangling her hair. From there, they pushed her handmaiden’s beds together and shared one large bed for the night since Artemis felt uneasy leaving Callisto alone. The fear was gone by morning, but she still took her girls down to the pools for the day, preferring to spend time with them in peace and quiet. After all, the palace was abuzz—amongst servants and noblemen alike, it seemed—about Callisto’s disappearance and subsequent state of her reappearance, and Artemis did not have the patience for questions. 

When their day was over, it felt like her old routine was slipping back in to place. She had dinner with Thor, Loki, and their parents, during which she regaled Odin with some of the more amusing anecdotes from their recent quest. She kept out details of the battle, naturally, and managed to downplay just about everything that actually happened: Loki spent the dinner looking relieved, while her intended simply nodded along, amused as ever.

Afterward, she accepted Frigga’s invitation for dessert in the gardens. As the men drifted off, she settled in for an evening of lectures on manners and wedding customs, but Frigga had nothing of the sort to tell her. Instead, she had war stories of her own, old tales told in hushed voices over flaky desserts. The woman had been a shieldmaiden in her day, and before she married Odin, she was no stranger to swords and battles and screams. However, she warned that it was a lifestyle that could not continue as vigorously when children entered the picture. 

Artemis nodded, subdued by thoughts of swapping a spear for a rattle, and that was all they discussed for the evening. When the dessert foods had vanished and the polite conversation had run dry, she excused herself to her room. It was only then that the sleep deprivation seemed to catch her; even if she might have preferred a forest floor to a palace bed, the former was never something that allowed for more than a few good hours of sleep at the most. 

Once inside, she decided to draw a bath before bed, assuming the hot water would settle some of her aches and pains, and sauntered into the bathroom to begin. It was so frustrating: in the past, she had never been sore after an outing like the one she had been on, and yet now she struggled in the aftermath. Lips pursed, she watched the water trickle in from the tap head; when she was queen, she would organize hunting parties with her numerous new handmaidens all the time, whether she was with child or not. Then, once she had birthed Thor’s enormous children, she intended to bring the babes with her out into the field where they would grow up with the earth in their blood. Frigga was a wise woman, but she led a different life than Artemis intended to—that much was clear. 

Sighing, Artemis peeled off her dress and flung it back toward her bedroom, stretching this way and that in an effort to loosen some of her stiff joints. Just as she was adding a bit of bathing salts to the increasingly warm water, there was a soft tap at her door. Frowning, she glanced back toward it; with the room illuminated by moonlight and the odd candle, it seemed strange that someone would approach her. After all, Loki rarely surprised her anymore with obscure visits: they were very careful with their planning. 

So, she snatched a thick towel from a nearby stool and wrapped it around her nude form, and then padded across the room. There was another tap when she placed her hand on the polished doorknob, and she arched an eyebrow. 

“Yes?”

“My lady?”

Her frown deepened when Thor’s voice boomed from the other side, and Artemis hastily opened it with the assumption that something was wrong. However, as soon as they faced one another, she could smell the ale on his breath—it practically seeped from his pores. 

“Is everything alright?” she inquired politely, trying not to breathe too deeply as he gazed down at her. “It’s late—“

“May I visit with you?”

She pursed her lips and glanced down at her state of undress. Thor too appeared to be aware of her lack of clothing, and she wasn’t happy with the way he studied her brazenly. 

“I… suppose,” she managed, opening the door just enough to allow him in. She poked her head out into the hall when he passed, wondering if there was an audience to this farce. However, the darkened corridor seemed as silent and tranquil as ever, and she shut the door behind her with a bit of a huff. “You smell of ale.”

“I have drunk much tonight,”

“Yes, I am aware.” She readjusted her grip on her towel, and then crossed the room to see to her bath. The tub was almost full to the brim in her absence, and she hastily turned the tap off to keep it from soiling her clean floor. When she returned to the main chamber, she spotted her intended fiddling with discarded pieces of jewelry on her vanity stand, his large fingers handling the delicate pieces with zero finesse. “Did you need something?”

“We are to be married soon,” he started, swaying a little on his feet when he turned to face her, a pearl necklace hanging over his fingers. She glanced down at it—a gift from a suitor in an age long gone by, but she appreciated its beauty. “We will be man and wife before I am crowned king.”

“I know,” she forced out. “I have also been briefed about our near future.”

“We did not choose one another…”

She licked her lips, wondering if her intended may suddenly decide to come clean about the deep feelings he carried for Lady Sif. It was a conversation they were bound to have at some point, and Artemis already knew she would react with a calm acceptance. However, when he fell silent, she thought he may need a little prompting. 

“No, we did not.”

“We’ve had time to… know one another,” he carried on, looking up at her through somewhat heavy eyes, “but never really… know one another.”

Her eyebrows knitted together when he took a step toward her, the pearl necklace falling to the ground. 

“I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean.” 

No, she understood it perfectly: his emphasis was clear, and if it hadn’t been, the way he looked at her made it quite plain what he was interested in. Still, she tried to uphold an air of innocence when he took another step toward her, her head cocked to the side and arms folded. 

“I thought, perhaps, we ought to know every piece of the other before we are wed,” he explained, his words only somewhat slurred by his drink. “It will make us stronger.”

“Oh, will it?” She arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by his logic. “No, I think we ought to wait.”

It wasn’t for some impractical oath of virginity that Artemis wanted to escape: she simply wasn’t ready to bed Thor yet. She knew she would have to at some point, but she wanted to prolong it for as long as necessary. They would obviously consummate the marriage on their wedding night, and until then, Artemis had no interest in speeding up the process. Still, Thor seemed ignorant to her refusal, and he continued to encroach on her space. 

“Artemis—“

“I think we should continue this discussion when your blood is not swimming in ale,” she said, each word crisp and clear as she sidestepped him. 

“I could only find a way to approach you through my drink,” he muttered, which stopped her in her tracks. “I am sorry for the smell.”

She sighed. She wanted him to be sorry for the implication that he could simply march into her room and assume that she would take him to bed on request. Still, there would be little sense in arguing the point with him now; she had seen him drunk before, but this felt like something completely different. Instead, she opted to dart out and find a servant who could help her escort her betrothed back to his room. 

It also just occurred to her that she knew every secret passage in the palace that would take her to Loki’s chambers, but she hadn’t the faintest idea where Thor’s was—not even in a general sense. 

Shaking her head, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze, which looked glossy. “I’m going to get dressed and take you to your bed. We will talk about this in the morning.”

He said nothing to it, his head somewhat bowed and arms hanging limply by his side. She waited for a response, and when she received none, Artemis started toward the bathroom to retrieve her crumpled dress. However, as she stalked by him, he reached out and took her by the forearm, catching her in a grip that was far tighter than she had anticipated. The gesture almost threw her off her feet, and she grunted when he dragged her to him, his other arm wrapping around her lower back and hoisting her up. 

His lips were hard and reeked of ale, and Artemis’s eyes widened when they pressed against hers. She was squished between his solid arms and a burly chest, one hand trying to keep her towel up while the other awkwardly pushed against him. When he tried to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and tongue everywhere, Artemis bit down on his lower lip as hard as she could. The pain seemed to shock him out of whatever drunken stupor he had succumbed to, and he gave a bit of a yelp before stumbling back. 

Breathing heavily, she tried to slip into the bathroom to at least cloth herself for this ridiculousness, but a sturdy arm wrapped around her waist and practically lifted her off the ground. 

“Thor!” she shouted, digging her nails into his leathery sleeves as he marched them to her bed. “Thor, enough of this!”

He mumbled something incoherent as he deposited her gracelessly onto the bed, and then loomed over her at the edge for a moment. Artemis stayed perfectly still, glowering up at him and wondering if he may cease if she stopped moving. Moments passed like hours, and she protested noisily again when he clambered onto the bed and tried to position himself between her legs. To his credit, he seemed almost unimpressed with the idea of bedding her: there was no seduction in his movements, nor did he try to kiss her again. 

Well, not on her lips anyway. She arched against him when he went for her neck, his facial hair scratching at the smooth skin in a way that made her squirm. Although she hadn’t wanted to resort to it, it seemed that violence was the only countermeasure she had in a situation like this. As his large hands pushed the towel up her thighs, she slipped a leg between them and kneed him soundly in the groin. He grunted, and she used the distraction to push him off. Unfortunately, he managed to grab hold of her when she tried to scoot off the bed, and she whirled back to unleash a punch to his cheek. 

She was sure she hadn’t broken anything, but he seemed dazed as he clawed weakly at her. When she thought she saw some wild idea flash in his eye—just as he reached for her with a little more gusto again—she leaned forward and forced her forearm across his throat. Artemis threw all her weight on him, pushing down on him and constricting his air passage. Had he not been so intoxicated, she was sure he could have thrown her off with ease. However, the alcohol made his reflexes sluggish, and she was able to subdue him into unconsciousness in a minute. 

When he stopped struggling, eyes rolling shut, Artemis leaned down to listen to his breathing. When she was sure she hadn’t killed him, she scrambled from the bed and marched to the bathroom. Her hands shook as she dragged her dress on over her head, and she barely cast her intended a final look when she darted out of her bedroom. 

The whole ordeal left her trembling in anger, shock, frustration. A small part of her wondered if this was the type of husband Thor would truly be, but she managed to get herself away from thinking of such a fate: never once had he displayed any indication that what she had just seen was his true self. However, she couldn’t sit there alone with him until he woke, and before she realized it, she was down in Loki’s domain of the palace. 

She didn’t bother to knock when she was at his door. Instead, she opened the heavy barrier and stepped into his dimly lit bedroom, not caring if someone might have seen her. As she anticipated, she found Loki readying himself for bed: shirt untucked, leather plating removed, a book resting on his bed. He turned sharply to observe the new arrival from his place in front of his wardrobe, and his smile faltered when he took in the state of her. 

Her hair was ruffled, and she realized she hadn’t even taken the time to belt her dress. 

“What is it?” He crossed the distance between them in a jog, his hands going to her cheeks as he studied her. “What happened?”

There was a faint scent of ale on his breath—nothing like Thor. “Your… Your brother came to visit me.” She swallowed thickly, unable to meet his eye. Instead, she focused on his large bed behind him, vaguely remembering the times she had surprised him by lurking beneath the heavy linens.

“I thought I sent him to bed,” Loki murmured when she said nothing further. “What did he do?”

“He said we ought to… we ought to know one another before we are married,” she admitted weakly. “He… I’ve never seen him like that before.”

His jaw clenched as he stared at her, no doubt putting the pieces together in his mind. Then, without another word, he stepped around her, his hands in fists, and tried to get to the door. 

“No, no, don’t be absurd,” she hissed, grasping him by the arm and yanking him back. It took a few tries to get him to stop, but when he did, she darted in front of him and held his face between her hands. “If you confront him now, he’ll know what we are.”

“He cannot simply—“

“I came to you for comfort,” she said firmly, pushing herself up slightly onto her toes to keep his attention. “I do not need a warrior to fight my battles… I have seen to him already.”

“Of course you have,” he murmured. He then shook his head, his hands wrapping around hers and bringing them to his lips to kiss. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“But I did.” She gave him a soft caress when she felt the heat on his skin, heard the distress in his voice. Everything would be ruined if Loki left to do something rash. “I will have many battles to fight here, and you cannot be my champion.” He frowned. “I am my own champion.” 

“Yes.”

“But I will always need you in the aftermath,” she whispered, displeased with the way he had reacted to this. He responded with emotion rather than logic; it pulled at her heartstrings, confirming his love for her. “Loki…”

He sighed softly when she kissed him, needing both a distraction and a way to soothe his ire. It seemed to work, and soon he was backing her toward his bed, their lips parted and eager for one another. When the backs of her knees hit a solid surface, Loki broke away and hauled her dress up and off, tossing it on the floor as she went for the lacings of his trousers. He groaned noisily when she took him in her hand, gripping his solid length with a pressure that she knew drove him wild. 

He hastily slipped out of his trousers, leaving only the thin linen of his shirt between them. They descended onto the bed in a flurry of movements, her arms keeping her up while his hands slid down her thighs—which parted with ease for the right lover. Wrought with an emotion that made her chest tight and her eyes water, Artemis dragged him in to another kiss, unwilling to be parted from him for more than a moment. Their lips hovered before one another as he pushed into her, eliciting a breathy moan from Artemis in the process. 

She let him take her how he saw fit—as if he needed to re-establish that her body was his to take, to love, to fuck. But he stayed close, breath and lips upon her cheek as she wove her fingers through his thick hair. 

“Why couldn’t your father have given you to me?” The question came out almost as desperately as his pace, and Artemis wrapped her legs around him in an effort to smother those thoughts. 

“He gave me to no one,” she insisted weakly, crying out when he readjusted his angle, his arm under her knee as his thrusts grew sharper. 

“He gave you to Thor,” he muttered, kissing her briefly before burying his face in her neck. “He should have given you to me. I would have made you the happiest—“

“My love,” she purred against his skin, nails running lightly down his neck and onto his back. It was a gesture of comfort—although she realized that she had come here for comfort herself, this, oddly enough, felt better. He reveled in the affectionate term, groaning against her as his breathing quickened. “My love, you have no armies… You have no chance to be king, and you will never rule. You mean nothing to my father.”

He slowed, thrusting roughly against her once before hovering over her, his breathing ragged. Although she knew she was saying the wrong thing as she said it, she hadn’t stopped herself, and must now deal with the consequences. She smiled weakly, trailing her fingers along his jaw. 

“Marriages like mine are never for love,” she told him unhappily. “My father believed Thor would provide the most for the future of Olympus… You know that.”

“But—“

“You were never up for consideration.” Artemis tried to pull him back down for another kiss, but he seemed resistant this time. “You are an afterthought to my father.”

She heard him swallow thickly, his arms shaking as they held him up, and he then looked away. Artemis could almost feel the way his mind worked, and she gently pulled him back to face her. 

“But not to me,” she whispered, easing herself up onto her elbows so that they were close once more. “You are never an afterthought… Loki, I would marry you for love if I could.”

The omission seemed to stun him—and her, actually—but she stood by her word, urging him to kiss her again with a few cautious pecks. He caught her lips after the third try, and then resumed thrusting against her, raking his hands through her hair as pleasurable jolts shot through her body. 

They finished together, a rarity in their lovemaking, and ended up wrapped around one another in the middle of the bed as their breathing settled. 

“I could challenge him for you,” he murmured after a lengthy silence. She adjusted her body so that it felt more comfortable to have him rest against her chest, his arms curled around her hips. 

“You and your armies?” she mused gently, placing a kiss on his forehead as he frowned. “Let us not speak of it anymore… It makes me sad.”

“The perfect way to start a marriage—“

“Loki.”

He sighed heavily before sitting up, pushing her hair back and gazing down at her with such affection that it almost hurt. “Are you well? I should have cared more for you than to confront Thor for his behaviour.”

“Thor is not the first man who has tried to take me against my will,” she insisted, rolling her eyes a little, “but I suspect he will be the last.”

He kissed her firmly, the gesture so out of the blue that it made her giggle. When he pulled back, he held her by the chin. “He will be. I swear it.”

“Yes,” she murmured, sitting up to kiss him again. “Yes, he will.”


	28. Queen Frigga

Artemis was out of Loki’s chambers shortly before sunrise. Although she hadn’t used the secret passages to get there, she opted to take them now. There were far more servants wandering about, ready to start the day before the noble occupants of the palace rose. Although she hadn’t had much sleep, she felt functional enough for the day that awaited her, and after a very quick scrub, it was like all the previous night’s drama had never happened. 

Thor was gone when she arrived. The bed looked made, though quite messily done, and the jewellery that he had knocked off the vanity was back in its original spot. Artemis wasn’t sure how they were going to address what had happened. In fact, she wondered if Thor would even remember any of it. While she doubted her blow would leave a mark on his face, his throat was probably a little sore from the necessary pressure she exerted on it to knock him out. So, that would undoubtedly be a painful reminder of his previous misgivings, and it would be his choice to come to her or not.

Loki had promised to be silent about the whole ordeal. She reasoned that times like this would happen over and over again throughout their marriage, and Loki could only interfere to the extent that any other family member might. If he reacted as a lover, he would have given them away, and then she would never be permitted to be alone with him again—and that would probably be the mildest consequence of their coupling. So, he assured her that he would act as though he had heard nothing of the previous night, and that suited her just fine. 

She was already robed by the time Callisto and Nomia knocked at her door, and she beckoned them in with a warm smile. While Nomia readied her various brushes and hair clips, Artemis caught her blonde nymph studying the faint half-circles under her eyes. However, an arched eyebrow and a pointed look kept the woman silent, and Artemis seated herself in front of the vanity mirror with a bit of a sigh. 

“Don’t pout, my lady,” Callisto scolded, her tone light and playful as she began drawing her long, straight strands of hair back to start a braid. “Frigga’s servant told me she was very excited for today.”

“I will try to show some enthusiasm then,” Artemis muttered. She clipped a gold bracelet to her wrist, and then blinked uncomfortably as Nomia started to apply some concealing powder under her eyes. 

Although it wasn’t an Olympian tradition, Frigga was set on upholding the mores that many Asgardian women performed before their weddings. One involved traveling to a famous dressmaker in the golden city streets to have a gown fitting, and Artemis had been informed some time ago that Frigga had already settled on an appointment. Although she could care less about what she wore for the wedding, Artemis recently decided that this was a necessary evil: she certainly did not want to be dressed in some frilly monstrosity and marched down the aisle in discomfort. 

There was a soft tap at the door, and Artemis stiffened, glancing at it in the mirror’s reflection. Nomia darted across the room to answer it, poking her head out quickly. When the maiden stepped aside, there was a kitchen wench with a serving tray in her hand, and Artemis called for her to enter when her stomach grumbled appreciatively. She thanked the burly woman, who seemed to be trying to uphold some sort of unnecessary dignity as she marched across the space between them, and then dug into the bowl of fruit awaiting her. 

Nomia fussed that all her movement had spoiled the make-up routine, but Artemis merely shrugged and offered her a bite of the pastry—she had never seen someone look so sullen to eat such a sweet treat. Callisto chuckled softly behind them, working furiously over what felt like a very intricate braid. When she finished, she wrapped the entire thing around Artemis’s head, pinning it with a metallic clip that was shaped like a flower. 

“That looks very pretty, Callisto,” Artemis praised. The word “pretty” was one she seldom used in her everyday vocabulary, and the nymph seemed to stand a little taller at the sound. She opted to share the remainder of her breakfast tray, despite knowing her girls would have already eaten, and then freshened up with some squirts of a fragrance. 

If she had been meeting anyone else for any other occasion, she wouldn’t have tried so hard to look her best. However, Frigga was always immaculate when she was in public, and seeing as the days were numbered before Artemis would take over her position, she ought to get into the habit of mimicking the older Asgardian. She appraised herself in the mirror, smoothing a hand down the front of her pale yellow garment, which was belted with brown leather over her waist: no one said she needed to be either feminine or masculine—she could be both for the sake of her new position. 

However, thoughts such as those still left an uncomfortable fog in her mind, and she brushed them away with chatter of another hunting trip. It would be closer to home this time, since she noticed the way Callisto tensed at the suggestion, and she decided to invite Hogun along for the ride; Callisto had grown fond of the warrior in a platonic sense, and Artemis was sure she would feel safer with him nearby. 

“See that my sheets are washed today too,” she instructed as Nomia fiddled with the lengthy train of her dress. Artemis would have preferred to wear something shorter, but the weather was changing, and it might no longer be appropriate to wear something like that in public. Her handmaidens had the task of cleaning her room from top to bottom while she was away, and she was sure they were keen to get started: there was a lot to do. 

“Don’t let her put you in an outrageous colour,” Callisto said with a smile as she departed. Artemis shot the nymph a narrowed look before shutting the door behind her, but smirked as she strolled away. 

Servants darted out of her way as she strolled through the palace corridors, many with their eyes down and heads bowed. They were starting to realize that this Olympian woman would soon be the mistress of their home, and perhaps that carried more weight than Artemis had initially expected. Although she knew it was necessary, she would have preferred to see a few smiles here and there: the tops of heads were so dull and bland. 

The sun was brilliant in the pale blue sky that morning, and Artemis inhaled deeply as she marched through the well-maintained courtyard. It was warm, but the breeze made her realize that a long dress was a good decision. As she expected, Frigga was waiting for her by the main entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of security and handmaidens. When she spotted Artemis, she dismissed half of them, sending most of the women away in a flurry, and Artemis returned her wave warmly. 

She had only taken another two steps, however, before a hand latched onto her arm, and she whirled back in a panic. A part of her expected to see Loki there, and that was what set her off. Instead, she saw Thor standing behind her, eyes squinted in the sun. He was pale and his hair stuck out at odd angles, but no one would have noticed his poor condition unless they really took the time to look. 

They stared at one another for a moment, and Artemis felt the rage she had suppressed last night bubble up in her stomach. This was no time for yelling, unfortunately, not with his mother waiting nearby. Instead, she tactfully extricated herself from his grip, and then took a step away, eyebrows up. 

“How are you feeling today?” The question came out through tight lips, and he must have surely realized how frustrated she was with the whole situation. He threw his shoulders back, as if to give off an air of confidence, and then replied in a soft voice. 

“Quite sore,” he told her, “both in body and mind.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes darting up and down his tall frame. “Good.”

“I am sorry for my behaviour.” He looked as though he wished to touch her again, but then seemed to think better of it—a wise decision. “I was not myself… I am afraid that my drunkenness heightened some of my… nerves for the wedding.”

“I… suppose I can understand that,” she remarked. Frigga was waiting, and she couldn’t stand the sight of him in that moment. “Do not let it happen again.”

“I shan’t.”

“Or I will damage more than your pride,” she warned quietly. He seemed taken aback by the threat, but nodded all the same. Mildly satisfied, Artemis turned on her heel and stalked across the courtyard without another word. They would probably discuss the incident again at some point in the future, but for now it was far too raw in her mind. If they went on any further, if he said something else, Artemis probably would have shrieked at him like some awful harpy. 

Still, as she approached Frigga, she schooled her features to something more pleasant, though she could see the way the queen glanced between her and Thor. 

“Is all well?” the woman inquired as Artemis sauntered by the duo of guards who were bound to be their shadows for the trip. 

“Yes,” she replied with a chuckle, waving it off as though nothing at all had happened. She did not want to upset Frigga: the woman was far too genteel to know of her son’s brutishness. “Your son was a little more drunk than usual last night, and he made a bit of a fool of himself in front of me and my girls… He wanted to apologize.”

Frigga smiled at the thought, shaking her head as she surveyed Thor over Artemis’s shoulder. “Men and their drink.”

“Yes,” she agreed tightly, nodding a few times when Frigga looked back to her. “They are quite amusing, aren’t they?”

Frigga’s stare seemed to change for a fleeting moment, and if Artemis had blinked, she would have missed it. However, as quickly as it came, it was gone, and she wondered if she had only imagined the searching look. The queen grinned, looping her arm around Artemis’s, and then started toward the open gateway. 

“Leif is known for his excellent craftsmanship,” she insisted, patting Artemis’s hand as they went from palace grounds to public space. “He is very excited to be making your dress for the royal wedding.”

“I’m sure he is.” Anyone involved in the royal wedding was probably counting their blessings. After all, the publicity from the event alone would be enough to keep them in business for decades to come, and she was sure Odin would pay them handsomely for their services. 

Just as before, no one scattered out of the way when their queen walked amongst them. Some stepped aside to let Frigga and Artemis pass ahead of them, but it seemed as though the citizens of Asgard’s public arena paused for only a moment to admire their queen, and then carried on with the rest of their day. She could get used to something like that. Some monarchs—she had known many in her long lifetime—demanded every single pair of eyes marvel at them as they strolled by, and yet Frigga seemed content to walk through the streets as if it was an ordinary affair. 

The dressmaker was in the heart of the city, tucked away in the south corner of a familiar market square in a high-rise building that looked unimpressive from the outside. There were extravagant garments sitting in the shop windows that seemed to be enough to advertise the richness of the tailor, and Artemis paused for only a moment to comment on one that she liked. 

A little bell tolled as they stepped inside, and their guards lurked by the entryway—no further. Artemis’s eyes wandered upward first: the walls seemed to stretch up to the sky, and they were lined with rolls upon rolls of different fabrics. Impressive ladders leaned up against the shelving units, and Artemis couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open at the sight of it. 

“My queen!”

A round little man swept forth from the second level of the shop, which appeared to be no more than a wooden balcony that sat atop a rickety set of stairs. Light trickled in from the front windows, but otherwise Artemis struggled to find the source of lighting for the shop. 

Frigga smiled as the man Artemis assumed to be Leif approached, her hands outstretched for the tailor to kiss. When he bent low, she could see a prominent bald spot on the top of his head where his white hair had separated. He carried himself with pride, however, and was dressed as if he was a frequent visitor in Odin’s court. The sheer number of gold rings on his fingers said more than gossip ever could. 

“Leif,” Frigga greeted warmly, stepping aside to present Artemis. “This is Artemis, daughter of Zeus.”

“My lady,” the dressmaker crooned, sweeping forward and taking her hand. Artemis stiffened slightly, but was relieved when he did not kiss her. Instead, he pressed the top of her hand to his forehead, which was warm and dry. “It is an honour to have you in my shop.”

“Thank you,” she managed, unsure of what else she should say. Frigga gave a little nod when she glanced at her—apparently, that was acceptable. “I am excited to see what you have in mind for the dress.”

Leif, who stood roughly at the height of her shoulder, opened and closed his mouth several times, his smile never faltering, and then glanced at Frigga. 

“Leif won’t be designing it entirely,” the queen told her, taking her arm once more and walking them further into the shop. It was rectangular and narrow, and somewhat overwhelming with the height of the shelves. “I actually gave him the design of my wedding dress, and we will alter it to suit you.”

“Oh, I see.”

Well, that was a relief. At least she knew Frigga had appropriate taste levels and she wouldn’t be marched down some aisle in a frilly monstrosity. 

The group ended up at the far corner of the shop in a circular area. There were a few stools, all made of ornate wood with intricate carvings, and a small stage for which she assumed she would need to stand on for fittings. There was a large mirror before her too, along with what appeared to be a dressing room. Leif disappeared momentarily and when he returned, there was a large sheet of paper in his hand. 

“You see, these are the preliminary drawings,” he told her, extending his arms and holding it before her. Artemis leaned forward, chewing on her lower lip as she studied the page. It would be a floor-length gown with two layers to it. The first layer was quite plain, with long sleeves that hung loose around the model’s wrists. Then, a second dress would be set on top of that in a different colour: there were no sleeves, and it appeared as though large broaches held the dress together at the shoulders. 

“It’s very nice,” she offered after a long moment of silence. She licked her lips, shooting a smile to Frigga. “I’m sure you were beautiful on your wedding day.”

“And growing more beautiful every day,” Leif added, which made the queen laugh. “Now, her highness was married a long time ago, and there are a few adjustments I would make…”

He offered to cuff the sleeves around her wrist and lower the neckline, neither of which were details that Artemis cared about. She nodded along anyway; it seemed to please him that she appreciated his ideas. 

“Now, is it too Asgardian for you?” Frigga inquired as Leif shaded in the top layer with a pencil. Artemis shook her head. 

“I will wear whatever you would like me to wear.”

“I know you will, my sweet,” Frigga insisted, the affectionate quality to her voice startling Artemis, “but it’s your family I want to appease. Are there any details we can add that would make it appear more Olympian?”

Artemis’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember the dresses she had seen in past weddings, and then shrugged. 

“Olympian brides are ancient history,” she insisted. “We have not had a real wedding back home for an age… Though we never wear sleeves, and our dresses are more fitted in the middle.”

But in all honesty, Artemis preferred this. Although it wasn’t the most stylish of garments, it looked incredibly comfortable, and that was what she wanted to be on her wedding day. 

“Shall I change—”

“No, keep it as is,” she said quickly, unwilling to sit through countless hours of Leif changing this and that to make the dress more “Olympian”. “You may modify it to suit modern fashion sensibilities, but I very much like it the way it is.”

She could feel Frigga beaming at her, and Artemis knew she had made the right decision. 

“Excellent, excellent,” Leif murmured, scribbling a few notes on the side of the drawing before handing it off to an assistant, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Now, I will need to take some measurements, my lady.”

Artemis nodded and took his hand as he helped her step up onto the raised platform. It seemed silly, seeing as he was so much shorter than her, but he soon had a stool of his own to stand on. She obliged with whatever he needed, twisting and lifting her limbs to let him get the measurements. He showed absolutely no squeamishness when he needed to touch her bust, which was refreshing, though she still eyed him cautiously. 

“There is one more piece to the outfit that all Asgardian brides wear,” Frigga told her once the measuring tape disappeared. Artemis raised her eyebrows curiously in the mirror, her eyes on the seated queen. “It’s a bridal crown… I remember you wore a floral headpiece when you first arrived in Asgard, and I thought it could be similar to that.”

She nodded. Hera would be fuming that she didn’t wear the older goddesses wedding veil like Aphrodite had, but she was not Hera’s daughter and therefore saw no reason to appease her. In fact, she would happily wear anything of Frigga’s if it meant scorning Hera. 

“It will be a gold crown,” Frigga continued, and Artemis noticed Leif taking notes again. Apparently, this was another one of his tasks. “I thought, since you will be marrying in the harvest season, it could be filled with brown, orange, and red flowers.”

“I would like that,” she replied earnestly. At this point, Frigga must have known she didn’t really care what she wore, as long as she didn’t look like a complete fool. “You seem to have given this far more thought than I have.”

“Well, it is less than a month and a half until you become my daughter,” the woman mused. “Perhaps you should start to give it thought.”

Her stomach knotted anxiously at the thought, and she tried her best to maintain her smile. 

“Let me fetch some sample headpieces,” Leif said suddenly, his voice giddy. “There are a few styles that I think you will really enjoy.”

Artemis tried not to sigh too loudly, but he was off like a shot, waddling through his shop at a surprising speed. His assistant bounced after him, struggling to keep up, and she grinned as she watched the duo in the mirror—there was probably never a dull moment with Leif. 

“Artemis?” She turned back to face Frigga properly this time. “A word while we are truly alone.”

She swallowed back a frown, instead opting to stay bright and cheerful. “Yes?”

“Have care with Loki,” the queen said slowly, her features carefully concealing her true thoughts. “He is more fragile than he lets on.”

“I…” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and gaped at the woman rather unintelligently. 

“I know you are both very close with one another,” Frigga continued softly. “It will be hard for him when you are married.”

“Yes.” The word was forced out, and Artemis couldn’t bring herself to look away from the woman. Did she know more than she let on?

“Consider that as you move forward from today.”

And that was the last they spoke of it.


	29. The End is Near

Artemis hated the thought of her entire immediate family staying within the palace walls for almost an entire month before the wedding. A week would have been understandable, but there were various weekly celebrations scheduled that Odin and Frigga had invited the Olympian Pantheon to, and she knew no one in her family would ever turn down an invitation to drink and make merriment. The only one she was pleased to see step off the Bifrost Bridge was Apollo, but that was a given. She smiled genuinely to see her father, who hugged and praised her maturity—unnecessarily, mind you—and Hera’s icy greeting was returned in kind.

The rest of her siblings were another story, but that was always the way. Athena seemed immediately taken with Heimdall and lingered behind the crowd to speak with him, ignoring both Odin and Frigga in favour of Asgard’s gatekeeper. Aphrodite, on the other hand, drifted straight over to Thor, cooing about how they would be siblings soon and how marvelous an adventure it would be. Her husband was notably absent, and seeing as she was no longer pregnant, Artemis suspected the squat god was minding their offspring while his wife enjoyed Asgard’s male population. Ares lingered near her father, barely acknowledging her as he accepted Odin’s welcome. He seemed the least impressed of the bunch to be there—excluding Hera. Hermes, her youngest brother, gravitated toward Loki, and she assumed their shared interest in mischief would be something to bond over. 

The welcome feast for the Olympians was more extravagant than anything she had seen recently. An entire hall was decorated for the affair, and her handmaidens were commandeered by the palace staff to assist with the preparation. A massive table stretched the entire length of the hall, and not only were the newly arrived Olympians seated there, but the entire court made an appearance.

Although this was the first time she had seen her family in almost a year, Artemis sat between Loki and Apollo, with Thor directly across from her, and that was all she could have ever wanted. Frigga shot her a wary eye when no one else was looking, and Artemis nodded slightly to indicate she knew precisely what she was being chastised for. 

It had been two very long weeks since she chose her dress details and headpiece with the Asgardian queen, she had truly taken Frigga’s words to heart. It would be selfish of Artemis to keep both Loki and Thor at her beck and call, but she had learned now that she could not simply distance herself from Loki without any explanation. Instead, she took him aside one evening and insisted that his mother was aware of something, and for both of their sakes, they ought to keep some distance between them. He loved her, and she suspected she loved him too, but for the sake of their future happiness, they agreed that distance—for now—was best. 

He wasn’t happy with the decision, and if she was being honest, Artemis wasn’t either. There were many nights recently where she had wanted to sneak into her lover’s bed and lay there until the morning hours crept up. But she didn’t. Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep herself from him forever, and to compensate for their lack of private time together, Loki and Artemis actively sought out group activities with the rest of the household. So, while they hadn’t been alone together for some time, they had managed to be with one another all the same. 

Perhaps this was the true preparation for her marriage. Did they really think she could crawl from one bed to the other without Thor growing suspicious? Artemis saw the jealousy in her lover’s heart: it was blackened and ugly and twisted. One day, Loki would grow sick of sharing her, and then it would be sheer chaos in the family. She knew this, and she assumed he knew it too. But she couldn’t cut herself off completely—neither of them could. Physical declarations of love had always been trivial to Artemis, and she told Loki one night as they followed the group back from the training arena that carnal love was her lowest priority. True love—earnest and pure—was what she valued, to which he agreed. 

But it had been difficult. Even now, his leg brushed against hers beneath the table, and a flicker of desire ignited. She licked her lips and tried to focus on Apollo’s story (one that she had heard a dozen times), but Loki’s low, rumbling chuckle made her skin prickle. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, silently counting down to nothing, and when she opened them, she saw her drink had been refilled. 

The one mistake they had made was cutting one another off entirely from each other’s body. Artemis wanted to touch him. Sure, carnal desires did not make a relationship, nor did she desire physicality over all else, but she certainly wished she had been with him once or twice after they decided to take a break. Still, this was for the best. She had already noticed Loki and Thor’s relationship mend itself after the incident in her bedroom, though with Loki, she could never be sure which outsider interactions were genuine. He adored his older brother—that much was plain—but Artemis had noticed the distance grow between them lately. It wasn’t her place to discuss it, however, and she refused to do it unless one of them sought out her opinion. 

When the feast finally came to an end, an attendant announced that the festivities would continue in another grand hall nearby. Artemis was fairly sure she hadn’t been in either of these halls since her father was last in Asgard, but she figured she would become quite familiar with them when she was the queen. Apollo practically dragged her away from the long bench, eager to drink Asgardian wine and throw himself around to Asgardian music. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Loki watching her with a look—that look. Taking another deep breath, she distracted herself with Apollo’s enthusiasm, linking her fingers with his and laughing. 

They entered the second grand hall together, which was decorated with such exquisite detail that Artemis wondered what her wedding was going to look like if this was just a minor celebration. 

“A moment, sister,” Apollo cooed, his eyes narrowing in on the serving girl with a tray of wine glasses. “I wish to partake in this exquisite wine once again.”

She rolled her eyes as he dashed through the crowd. The hall filled slowly with people from the feast, spilling in through the doors like a waterfall. They fanned out into the open space, some loitering in the windowless frames by the edge, while others dragged companions to the dance area. Music started shortly after, and Artemis realized she actually felt some small affection for the rowdy Asgardian gathering. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?” It was Athena’s low, deep voice that startled her, and Artemis whirled around to face her older sister. The woman looked pointedly to each defined area of the room, and then back to Artemis. “Drinking and feasting and dancing.”

“No.” She sounded like a sullen child, and Artemis’s eyes narrowed at her. “You would have lost your mind here.”

Both literally and figuratively, she decided. Athena would have been bored with Thor’s brutish displays, and she would have had no patience for the Warriors Three. Loki’s cautious tiptoeing would have turned the Goddess of Wisdom off so horribly that she probably would have tried to strangle him. 

“I thought you were here to become a queen,” her sister mused, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she observed Artemis, “but I still see the same girl standing before me that I’ve always seen.”

“How nice for you,” Artemis said tightly. Her sister sighed when someone knocked in to her, and then drifted toward one of the windows. Glaring, Artemis’s hands balled as she stalked through the crowd, and she let out a surprised squeak when someone grabbed her arm. 

“What was that all about?” Apollo asked, stuffing a drink into her hand. 

“Oh, Athena needed to share her opinion of me.”

Her twin scoffed loudly, a sound that made her smile, and then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“Don’t listen to her,” he insisted as he steered her toward the dance floor. “You know she’s an awful bore at parties.”

“Hmm.”

“Away, you!” She looked over her shoulder to see who Apollo was waving off, and then grinned when Thor raised both hands dismissively. “She’s all mine tonight!” 

Her intended shot her a smile—a genuine one—and then disappeared into the growing crowd. Apollo, meanwhile, wrapped an arm around her waist and rocked her amidst the dancing couples. 

“So,” he started, taking a sip of his drink over her shoulder. “Are you still fucking the younger of the two?”

“Apollo!”

“Oh, no one’s listening to us,” he whispered heatedly, rolling his eyes at her. “There are more foreigners in this room than I suspect any of these simpletons have ever seen. You, my love, are old news.”

She sighed heavily, unimpressed with his candor, and then offered a shrug. “What do you think of us?”

“You were both on your very best behaviour tonight,” he noted, taking a moment to think it over, “and you were seated next to one another, which means no one knows of the affair.”

“His mother suspects something, I think,” she muttered, circling her arms around his neck and sighing again. “She hasn’t said anything, but I think she knows.”

“And she’s done nothing either?”

“No.” She let her head rest on his shoulder, the contents of her drink swirling behind his head. “I think she believes I will make the right choice for my affections.”

“And have you?”

Her silence was answer enough, and she hoped he would stop pressing her about such matters. When the pair finished their drinks, they handed off the large glasses to a wandering servants, and with their hands free, they were able to partake in some of the sillier aspects of Asgardian dancing. It wasn’t until she was red in the face, her cheeks sore from laughing, that another member of her family sought her out. This time, it was her father’s bushy beard that surfaced behind the heads of the people around her, and she broke away from Apollo when he approached. 

“Come.” 

She followed without question, hitching up her cumbersome skirt as they wove through the party guests. He led her to a small balcony at a quieter end of the hall, and it was there he rounded to face her. They had yet to speak in private since his arrival earlier in the day, and she could see he was positively bursting with curiosity. 

“You look well,” he told her quickly, nodding a few times. “A little wider than I remember—“

“Father!” She gave him a sharp poke to the side, which did nothing but make the Olympian chuckle. “I think I look more or less the same.”

“Not in the slightest.” A direct contradiction to Athena’s observation, and Artemis wasn’t sure which she ought to believe. “There is experience in your eyes now.”

“Yes, I suppose.” She wasn’t sure how she ought to take a comment like that, but she accepted it with a smile. 

“And have they treated you well?”

“Yes.” Not that he had bothered to check after he abandoned her here, but she suspected Apollo reported back in detail after his brief visit. “Yes, very well.”

“And have you learned much?”

“Oh, very much.” Frigga’s patient lessons saw to that, and Loki’s adoration made up the rest. “I feel like Athena now.”

“Do not make fun of your sister,” he ordered. They both spared a glance in Athena’s general direction, and Artemis saw her miserable face stuck between Hera and Frigga.

“I wasn’t,” she assured him, fidgeting with the thick fabric of her dress. 

“Do you love your intended?”

The question was so bold—so blunt—that it actually knocked the wind out of her. To anyone else, she might have been able to get away with a lie, but Zeus was not one she liked to fib with. 

“No.”

“But he is good to you, is he not?”

“Yes.” He was especially good now that she had put him in his place—she had never seen her intended quite so attentive as he was now. “He is kind to me.”

Her father seemed relieved at the omission, and he took her under his arm. “Then love with come in time.”

“Yes.” Love had already come. She licked her lips, scoping the crowd for Loki’s familiar face as her father walked her back through the people.

They stopped only when Hera stepped in front of them, a sour expression on her face, and Artemis spotted an apologetic Frigga hurrying to catch up with her. 

“I brought my veil for you,” the woman hissed. “I have all of Aphrodite’s trinkets that you were to wear for your wedding, and now I am told that you are wearing only Asgardian attire?”

And then, just as quickly as he stole her away, her father disappeared from her side. She pursed her lips at his retreating figure, and then turned her venomous gaze toward her step-mother. 

“Thor’s mother was very touched that I chose a design similar to her wedding dress,” Artemis said tightly, forcing herself to smile when Frigga appeared at Hera’s side.

“And what of your mother?”

She wasn’t sure why Hera even cared about what she was wearing at the wedding. After all, it seemed as though the woman was just happy to be rid of her when Artemis last saw her. 

“When I see my mother again, I shall ask for her opinion,” she retorted icily. Hera’s cheeks flushed a dull pink, and it was then that Frigga opted to step in. 

“We can always add something to the design,” the Asgardian queen offered. “After all, it is only a piece of clothing… It can be altered.”

Hera’s smile turned sickly sweet as she regarded Frigga, and Artemis wanted to slap her. Frigga was twice the woman she would ever be, and triple the queen. If anything, Hera was making a fuss over this because she had lost her purpose in the wedding: now that she couldn’t point out her wedding veil as Artemis stood next to her new husband, what else would she be known for?

“It isn’t about the dress itself,” Hera remarked, placing a hand on Frigga’s arm and shaking her head. “This is about Artemis celebrating and remembering her heritage… It’s so important now that she’s so far from home.”

“What do you care if I celebrate my heritage?” she snapped, unable to hold back any longer. Hera’s nostrils flared as she observed her, and Frigga simply looked uncomfortable. “It’s no business of yours.”

“Now, now, dear,” the fair-haired goddess smirked, arching a thin eyebrow. “Don’t cause a scene.”

“I’m hardly…” She pressed her lips together firmly, displeased that Frigga had seen this awful side of her. No one could get a rise out of her like Hera could. Before she could get another word in, however, she felt something ghost along her back—the slightest of touches. Her eyes flickered to the side, and she saw Loki stroll casually through the crowd.

* * *

Loki hated their distance. When Artemis approached him with the information about his mother being privy to their affair, he expected the worst, and while the worst hadn’t necessarily happened, he was still unhappy with the outcome. They were on a break from their sexual escapades. At least she had the decency to speak with him before she made her decision, but it was Artemis who decided it nonetheless. He feared that if he reacted poorly, she would have detached and moved on without him, whether she truly loved him or not. They both knew a time like this would come, but Loki had hoped it would have been years into her marriage that they decided to ease off of things. 

Instead, here they were. They had been together these last two weeks, but not really together, and Loki missed her. With all the nonsense she spouted about preferring aspects of the relationship aside from carnal pleasures, Loki was fairly sure Artemis missed him too. At least they still spoke—laughed, touched, lusted. He had a small inkling that this new chapter in their relationship would be short-lived, and as he watched her façade fracture under the scrutiny of her recently arrived family, Loki knew she would break. 

He hated to play games with her, but he knew this was all ridiculous. There was no way they could be apart now, but he pretended that it was working for him. He even tackled the distance that he had with Thor, which seemed to develop out of nowhere without either brother realizing. Artemis seemed pleased to watch them interact, and while Loki was happy to be on good terms with Thor—not that they ever weren’t, but things felt different as of late—he was bitter that everything lately had been about him. The celebrations were for Thor. The arrival of countryside noblemen was for Thor. His father’s attention had been for Thor. Artemis even seemed to be making an effort to mend the strain in her relationship with Thor, and that pushed everything just a little too far. 

He could play nice with the Olympians. Few acknowledged him apart from Apollo and Hermes, but Artemis’s twin was the only one he cared about impressing. However, the youngest of her brothers seemed interesting as well, and once he had taken care of his relationship, he decided to spend some time with the fleet-footed god. 

It was during the grand welcoming feast that Loki realized Artemis’s walls were starting to crumble. He could practically feel the desire emanating from her whenever he “accidentally” brushed up against her, and she seemed to be going at great lengths to avoid looking at him. Naturally, that made the game even better, and by the time her brother dragged her away, Loki was sure he had wormed his way back in. He lost her briefly in the crowded dance hall, but he merely needed to find a high point in the room and scan the clusters of people in order to spy her familiar blonde hair. 

She wore her locks up in a braid, which was tastefully touched with a few Asgardian flowers; Loki wanted to rip everything loose while he took her. 

With no one to distract him, Loki found her easily. She was stuck in a conversation with Hera and his mother, and from the look on her face, she was less than impressed to be there. So, he downed the remainder of his drink and shoved it into the awaiting hands of a nearby servant, and then eased his way through the crowd. No one stopped to look or speak with him, and he was able to walk by her nonchalantly. He kept his eyes focused on something else, aware that his mother might notice him, but trailed his fingers along Artemis’s back as he passed by. He heard her fumble over her words, and when he looked over his shoulder, he grinned when he saw her watching him. 

Getting out of the hall was a bit of a challenge: he constantly had to dart around people or squish through groups who refused to move. There were far too many people in the hall, but Loki intended to go to a spot that would be silent and vacant—precisely what Artemis would need. Once he was free from the constraints of the hall, he traveled through one of the corridors and kept to the shadows. When he heard the soft echo of footsteps behind him, he slowed and hid behind one of the pillars, lust and excitement making his hands tremble. 

The footsteps grew louder and louder, until finally Loki saw his woman march by. Before she could get very far, he latched onto her arm and hauled her back against him. Back to chest, Artemis arched against him, and he weaved his fingers through her hair the best he could and wrenched her head back. His lips found her neck, and she exhaled a shaky breath when he nipped at her. 

“Not here,” she murmured, turning her head to the side and letting her lips linger so very close to his. “Someone will see.”

“Everyone is too busy elsewhere to see,” he hissed, engulfing her mouth with his before she could protest. She was more than receptive to his advances, and as she turned in his arms, Loki pinned her against the pillar. 

There was no time for niceties and foreplay and lust-filled strokes: they needed one another, and when they were finished, Artemis would realize why they could never stop again. They could need to be cleverer about the affair, but they could never end it. 

Their hands were everywhere, hurried and flustered, and Loki groaned noisily when she slipped her digits beneath the waistline of his trousers to touch him. He couldn’t go this long without her again, not anymore. He batted her away, hitched up her dress, and soon pushed himself into her, which earned him a cry. She felt tighter than usual, but he gave her no time to adjust—he fucked her like he ought to, and her weak kisses were enough gratitude for his efforts. 

And then she cried out again. He smirked against her neck, pleased with her noises, and then faltered when she pushed on his shoulders. Fearing he had hurt her somehow, Loki straightened up and stopped, and only then did he see her horrified expression. He quickly followed her gaze and blanched when he spied Hera standing before them, her mouth hanging open. She then pressed her lips together and they curved up into a smile, and without another word, she sped off down the hall. 

“Get off,” Artemis snapped, shoving him away and untangling herself from him. “She’s going to tell… I have to…”

He was too stunned to say anything else, and he watched her race after the Olympian with her skirts in her hands. 

This was his fault. He should have taken her to one of their secret passages where no one would ever find them. Loki readjusted his trousers, enraged at his foolishness. This was different now—it didn’t matter if his mother suspected something. His mother knew how to keep a secret, and she actually loved him. There was no love between Hera and Artemis, and Artemis certainly wasn’t one to bow to blackmail. No, the secret was finished now—Hera would tell the world if she could. 

He slammed his fist into the pillar, ignoring the jolt of pain that traveled up his arm. A horrible, niggling thought crept to the forefront of his mind: he needed to tell Thor. Hera would blab her secret to Zeus or Odin, or someone who had the authority to punish Loki for his indiscretions, and he realized he would rather his brother hear the news from him than anyone else. As much as his jealousy took hold of him most of the time, he loved Thor—quite dearly, in fact—and he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else hurting him. 

Loki started back toward the celebration, but paused halfway there. What if Artemis had persuaded Hera to keep silent? It was wishful thinking, but there was no harm in being positive. Loki pursed his lips, deep in thought, and then shook his head: Artemis would fail like she failed to resist his advances. Soon, someone who mattered would know of their affair, and if his brother caught wind of it, Loki faced a throttling before the night was over.


	30. You Can't Stop It

By the time Loki caught up with Artemis, he knew it was over. She leaned against the doorway to the celebration hall, overshadowed by laughter and music and the scent of wine. Her head was bowed, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed over her chest. Hera was nowhere to be seen, and when Loki stopped beside her, Artemis refused to look up at him. Instead, she simply nodded, and Loki knew that he only had a few precious minutes to contain the fire before it spread. 

As he stalked into the dance hall, he spied Hera’s strange up-do bobbing around clusters of people. He couldn’t kill her—she was too old and powerful for him. If Artemis couldn’t silence her, Loki knew he would be unsuccessful there too. So, taking a deep breath, he pushed through couples and groups of people until he reached Thor. His older brother was seated with Lady Sif and Fandral; all three had a drink in hand, and merriment was on the agenda for the evening. 

“Brother!” Thor boomed when their eyes met. His familiar grin grew, stretching until it encompassed his entire face. To Loki, it looked warped. “Come and sit with us! I shall have a drink fetched—“

“No,” he said softly. Lady Sif and Fandral barely registered his refusal, but Thor’s smile seemed to falter. “No, brother, I must speak with you.”

“Well, sit with me then,” Thor beckoned, slapping the empty spot on the bench next to him. “I will always listen.”

Loki twitched at the falsehood, and then shook his head. “No, this must be privately.”

He watched his brother’s face fall further, his insides knotting and twisting in on themselves. However, it seemed that Thor needed no more persuasion. Instead, he handed his drink to Fandral and touched Lady Sif on the arm, promising both that he would return shortly. He then grinned at Loki, clapping him on the shoulder, and nodded toward a nearby balcony. That would ensure privacy, yes, but not to the extent that Loki required. Shaking his head, he simply turned and marched toward the exit, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see if Thor followed. 

They walked in silence. Perhaps once they were away from the noise, Thor realized that this was no time for jokes or games or pranks. They passed Artemis without a word, though Loki’s eyes did flicker in her direction briefly. He led his big brother away from the noise of the festivities, and before he realized where they were going, they were halfway up the narrow stairwell that took them to their shared tower. It seemed to be a fitting place to return to: it was in this room that Thor first announced he was going to marry an Olympian, and here would be the place that Loki announced his love for that same Olympian. 

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t wracked with nerves. Loki had always known there were dark elements to this affair: Artemis wasn’t technically wed to his brother yet, but there was a promise of an unspoiled union, and Loki had tainted that. They hadn’t discussed Thor’s relationship with Artemis in months, not since the fool squandered his early opportunities to get to know her. 

“What is this all about?”

Loki stood before the great pit in the center of the room, and with a touch of magic, the charcoal came to life as a new flame. He watched the shadows cast across the room, a light breeze pushing the flames this way and that. How could he begin? Loki took pride in his vocabulary, but in a moment like this, where were the words to express his guilt? 

“I’m so sorry, brother,” he started, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared into the fire. When he looked up, he saw Thor stood on the opposite side of the hearth, arms resting at his side. “My intention was never to hurt anyone.”

There was a long pause between them, and when he saw his brother’s expression change, he knew he could not mince his words with this. Thor looked at him as he always did when he knew Loki had done something wrong. His eyes were hard, lips pressed together, but the rest of his body remained unthreatening and relaxed. Loki eyed his fists warily. 

“What have you done now, Loki?”

At least he didn’t sound disappointed—not yet, anyway. 

“I didn’t think anything of it when it first started,” he said, shaking his head. “It… It was just a bit of fun.”

“Loki…”

“I love her,” he blurted, unable to hold his brother’s gaze anymore. “I love her and I think she loves me.”

“Who?”

“Can’t you guess?” he asked, finally looking up. His knees almost buckled under his brother’s stare, but he managed to hold it this time. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Thor then marched around the circular hearth, not stopping until he was an arm’s length away from Loki, and glared down at him. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve… you’ve fallen for…”

“Yes,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry—“

He reeled back when Thor’s first collided with his cheekbone, stumbling from the blow and steadying himself on the nearby bench. 

“How could you be so reckless?!” His brother’s voice echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and back to Loki for a full effect. “How could you be so foolish?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Loki insisted, a hand on his sore cheek. It would heal quickly, but the mental scar would linger. “It was nothing but a game to begin with—“

“She is to be my wife, Loki,” Thor hissed, shaking his head as his hands tightened into fists again. Loki stepped behind the bench as a precaution. “Do you understand what a difficult position you have placed us all in?”

“I can’t help that I love her,” he argued. “I didn’t choose it… I know that this complicates things.”

Thor exhaled deeply, his hands now resting on his hips, and then started to pace. “Why is that you told me now?”

“Her step-mother caught us together,” Loki confessed, fidgeting with his nails as he watched the man’s every move. “She’s telling Zeus… I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I do not doubt that, brother.” He then paused and looked back at Loki with a frown. “Together?”

Loki swallowed thickly. “She has had another lover before me… I was not her first.”

“But how—“

“I kissed her,” he insisted, hoping to spare Artemis whatever shame this might bring upon her. “I kissed her because I couldn’t help myself, and I think she saw that she… felt for me. She was lonely, I think.”

“You realize what this could do to me, do you not?” Thor demanded. His voice was tight, strained, and Loki realized he was going to great lengths not to shout at him. “Do you understand what will be said about a king’s queen who beds the king’s brother?”

“That was never my intention—“

“I know, Loki,” he sighed, shaking his head, “but that is what will come to pass if we cannot contain this.”

Loki’s mind stopped racing at the word: contain. He blinked rapidly, and then cleared his throat. “Contain it?”

“No one else can know of it,” Thor told him. They both glanced at the doorway, and Loki darted across the room to ensure that there were no lurkers in the stairwell. When he returned, his brother appeared to be deep in thought and he tried his best not to disturb him. However, when the silence was too much to take, Loki spoke up again. 

“I cannot simply stop feeling for her.”

“You will need to refrain from being intimate with her in public,” his brother stated firmly, to which Loki nodded. “I…. It is difficult to keep a lover from your life.”

“Lady Sif seems quite persistent.” 

They stared at one another for a long moment. Then, Thor smiled. It was another grin that stretched from ear to ear, appearing quite large and obtrusive. 

“She is very persistent,” he agreed. “She is difficult to forget.”

“You understand then?” Loki felt a weight lifted from his shoulders; he had never expected his brutish brother to respond so well to a conversation of this nature. Still, any wrong word could set the man’s temper loose, and Loki knew he needed to be careful. 

“I will never condone what you’ve done, Loki,” Thor told him. “You have put all of us in danger, including Artemis.”

“I know.”

“But we will deal with the situation now the best we can,” he continued, nodding a few times. “Did Hera appear to be drunk in any way?”

“I didn’t notice it—“

“We will argue she has consumed more than she let on,” Thor insisted. “We will contain the rumor and dismiss it as such.”

“And after that?”

He knew he sounded too hopeful—too eager for a response. He tried to contain his emotions, but Thor read right through the façade and sighed again. 

“I will take my soon-to-be wife aside and we will have a discussion,” Thor stated, folding his arms across his chest. “If she is willing, I can think of an arrangement that would work in all of our favours.”

“Really?” 

His eyebrows shot up. Thor’s decisions rarely surprised him, but in this moment, Loki wondered if his boisterous big brother was finally starting to take his responsibilities seriously. However, he quickly realized that this arrangement would benefit Thor in every way: Artemis would be his wife and Loki’s lover, while he could also keep Lady Sif on the side. He needn’t explain the details of the arrangement: Loki could work it out on his own. 

“Only if Artemis is willing, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And we must tell father what has transpired.”

Loki’s insides went cold at the thought. His father would be furious with him for putting the royal family in such a predicament. Loki assumed that the All-father’s punishment would be far more severe than a simple punch to the jaw. After all, he had toyed with the foundations of Asgard’s monarch by starting an affair before Artemis could even become a queen. What if he had given her a child? 

That was a dangerous—though thrilling—thought indeed. 

“No, Thor, I beg of you,” he pleaded, hurrying to his brother’s side. “I know I have no right to ask you—“

“You don’t.”

“But it will all fall apart if you bring father into this,” he reasoned. “It is best if we handle the damage ourselves.”

“Father will take our side, Loki,” Thor said with a chuckle, as though this was a joke. “He will understand when I explain everything to him… He will probably calm Zeus down if we cannot, and that is precisely what we need.”

“No, Thor—“

“We will speak with him now,” Thor said decidedly. “If he knows the situation, he can combat it.”

Loki pressed his lips together firmly: Thor simply didn’t want to reason with Zeus. He didn’t want to match wits with the old Olympian. If this were an arena where his brother needed to draw a sword, Thor would excel. Instead, this would be a place for careful words and selective speaking, and this was where Thor was limited. Loki could speak, naturally, but he also suspected Zeus might knock all of his teeth loose if he believed his wife. 

Still, he tried one last time. “Thor, if we tell father the truth—“

“He will be able reason with Zeus and Hera,” Thor assured him, clapping his shoulder one last time. “All will be well, brother… I promise it. Before the night is over, this incident will be forgotten.”

“But…”

“We will do this together, brother!” 

Loki licked his lips as he watched his brother’s retreating form. Shaking his head, he darted down after him, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.


	31. The Whore

Artemis had seen her father angry before. No one in her family could ever say that they had not seen the great and powerful Zeus enraged at one point or another. He had turned people to ash and stone, to starlight, to nothingness in a fit of rage, and when his temper flared, it was best that the world run for cover. When he marched across the hall, no one hesitated to flee. Apollo had found his way to her side shortly before that, and when he saw the look on her face, he realized the seriousness of the situation. It was comforting to have his hand on her arm, but when they spied their father stalking out of the celebration hall furiously, he was gone. 

“Is this true?” her father snarled once he was close enough. Hera lingered by the doorway, a smirk on her lips and her arms folded, before turning back in and joining the rest of the party. He shook Artemis to bring her attention back to him, and she swallowed thickly. 

“Hera saw what she says she saw,” she told him. She couldn’t lie, not to her father. She had every right to be angry with him, to try to deceive him. After all, he had left her here—alone—to marry a man when he promised her she would never need to marry. But she couldn’t lie to him. He was her father, and she knew she would never get away with such an outright falsehood. 

Zeus looked away, huffing enough so that the hairs around his mouth fluttered. He then shoved her back against the wall, his large hand wrapped around her throat. 

“How could you do this to us?” he hissed, fingers pressing down around her windpipe. “Don’t you know what this marriage means? Didn’t you understand your purpose?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes prickling with tears the more he pressed. She forced her hands to remain by her side: to struggle would only encourage him to push harder, to hurt her more. “Father…”

“I chose you because you were the one who could survive this life, this place, with these people!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Callisto rushing forth from a servant’s corridor. The slightest shake of her head sent the nymph back from where she came. Zeus seemed not to notice. 

“Father—“

“You and the sons you bore that boy were to be our salvation.” She saw specks across her vision now, unable to breathe at all. “Now we must find another way before the Titans choke the life from us!”

She gasped, her hands finally flying up to tugging on his wrist. He held her a moment longer, her eyes practically bulging from her skull, and then released her. Her father made no attempt to catch her when her knees buckled, and Artemis slid down the wall, sucking in all the air she could. 

“You there!” Her father beckoned to a servant, who was in the process of scuttling toward safety elsewhere. “Where is your master?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog. Her ears rung for a moment, but that soon passed, and she could hear the rest of the celebration carrying on as though nothing was happening. She glanced at the servant—a squat woman who worked in the kitchens—and willed her to be as forward with Zeus as possible. 

“The All-father was called away by the princes—“

“And where might he be?” Zeus demanded tightly as Artemis eased herself to her feet. The woman glanced between the two of them and then cleared her throat. 

“Best bet would be the council chambers, my lord.”

Without another word, Zeus took her by the arm and hauled her down the hallway. Artemis had a vague understanding of where the council chambers might be located; she assumed they were the same as the war chamber that she and Thor decided to rescue Callisto in. No one stopped them as they flew through the corridors, nor did it appear as though anyone was looking for them. 

Hera, for her sake, stayed behind. If the woman had decided to come along to watch Artemis receive whatever unfortunate punishment awaited her, she may have stabbed her with any sharp object that was available to her. It was downright humiliating to be treated like a child, to be dragged through the castle that had been her home for almost a year now. However, she would never pitch a fit in front of her father. She would never argue or shriek or cause a scene, not even now. 

She could only hope that someone else would make the arguments for her. 

As she suspected, Artemis heard familiar voices as they climbed the narrow stairwell to the war council chamber, and Zeus soon stepped in front of her to lead the way. She held her head up as they entered the drafty room, illuminated by fresh torches. Odin stood at the head of the great map of the Nine Realms, his hands resting on the Space Sea. Loki and Thor stood at his right; her intended appeared quite animated as he spoke, though Loki seemed more withdrawn than she would have liked. 

A silence fell as Zeus stormed in with Artemis in tow, and she stumbled forward when he threw her toward the table. 

“My friend,” Odin began, straightening up and smiling at her father. Zeus, however, made no move to return the pleasantries. His expression remain steely, his lips firm and set in place. 

“Is this true?” He pointed between Loki and Artemis. “Has your boy sullied my daughter?”

Her cheeks reddened when she felt three pairs of eyes dart over to her, but she continued to hold her tongue. The silence was positively deafening, and Artemis busied her gaze with the intricate details of the table-map before her. 

“From what I understand, it is true,” Odin said softly. 

“And you let it happen under your roof?!” Zeus thundered, his tone making her shoulders slump. 

“I was unaware of anything suspicious,” the All-father insisted, sounding quite calm and rational in comparison to his Olympian counterpart. “It was only brought to my attention by my sons now—“

“Because they were caught,” her father snarled. “Had they not been spotted, this could have carried on…”

Artemis glanced up at Odin meekly, unable to read his expression. She wasn’t schooled in reading the All-father to begin with, but today he appeared especially cryptic. His one wandering eye met hers briefly, and she was relieved that she did not see any malice—disappointment, perhaps, but certainly no outward ill-will. 

“I suspect they might have, yes—“

“This wedding will not happen,” Zeus growled, shaking his head as Artemis looked back at him. “No, our alliance is through, Odin Borson.”

She tried not to look too relieved, not when she felt Thor studying her. Instead, she turned her attention to Loki, who wore the smallest of smiles. However, he wouldn’t meet her gaze—perhaps he too had experienced some sort of chastisement before she arrived. No matter. There would be no wedding, no promise between her and Thor, and if she truly desired, she could still be an Asgardian’s wife by the time the night was over. 

“Now, my friend,” Odin started, his voice dragging her from her thoughts, “let us not be hasty.”

“No, it seems Asgard needs some haste—“

“Loki’s games come in all shapes and sizes,” Odin insisted carefully. “He takes his tricks too far sometimes, unaware of the consequences they bring.”

Artemis’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at her lover, who still refused to look anywhere near her now. She could see his hands fidgeting with his cape, his cheeks sucked in. 

“Excuses, Odin—“

“There is no need to tarnish a worthwhile alliance,” the king continued. “Let us reconsider the marriage. Loki meant no disrespect to you or your daughter.”

“And yet disrespect was paid—“

“Tell him, Loki.”

“I am sorry for the rift this has caused,” Loki said weakly. He finally looked in her direction, but it was clear that his gaze was meant for Zeus. “It was all a game when it started… I have grown close to your daughter, but I did not mean to ruin her chances at becoming a queen.”

“The terms of the marriage need not be broken,” Odin continued as Loki returned to fiddling with his cape. Artemis stared blatantly at him. “Thor will still lead an army against the Titans, if you wish it.”

“I will not ally my house with tricksters and childish kings who are willing cuckolds!”

Artemis turned her wide-eyed stare up toward her father, only now seeing the extent of the anger that this had all caused. He saw the offense as an affront to him personally—for some unfounded, ridiculous reason. She opened her mouth, sucking in a small mouthful of air with the intention of making him see that she did not bed Loki to defy him, but Thor spoke first. 

“Please,” he said lightly, though she could hear a tremor in his voice, “I believe that we can make Artemis very happy here if she stays as my wife. I will still gladly marry her—”

“I cannot believe you raised such openly weak men, Odin All-father,” Zeus scoffed. He spoke quieter now, no longer needing to shout to get his point across. This was the voice that could kill a man, that could level a city—that struck fear into her heart.

“I am sorry you see it that way, my old friend.” 

“Our alliance is through,” her father stated. “I will not place myself on the side of traitors and villains.”

“Now, now, you do not truly believe that,” Odin mused, shaking his head and finally folding his arms across his broad chest. “It seems that your daughter and my oldest were not meant to be… You have other daughters who may be better suited for—“

“Why would I ever send another girl of mine into this den of wolves?!”

“Father—“

“A house where they will be sullied and ruined for future prospects!”

Her jaw dropped, but it was then that her anger started to boil. She was already “ruined”—she was never suitable to be a virtuous bride. However, no matter how horrible her temper flared, she knew it would be outmatched by her father’s any day, and she took a few deep breaths to stay collected. 

Odin’s eyes had gone cold—perhaps he had taken just about all the insults he could tolerate against his family? She wasn’t sure why he fought so hard to maintain the alliance aside from the fact that all of Asgard knew of her, and surely there would be questions when Thor was crowned without her by his side. 

“And as for you,” Zeus hissed, rounding to her and grasping her by the forearm. “You are not welcome on Olympus until you understand the repercussions your actions have wrought!”

She blanched, her eyes watering a little. “Father, please—“

“You will live with your mother on Earth,” he continued, his grip tightening. “No servants, no hounds, no bow, no hunting!”

The words cut through her sharper than any blade might, and her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of them. Not only was she forced to leave Asgard alone, she couldn’t go home. Earth may have been her personal hunting grounds for centuries, but it was hardly a suitable replacement for either Asgard or Olympus. 

“Anyone who visits you,” he told her, quite obviously meaning Apollo, “will face the same punishment.”

“Please, have mercy,” she whispered. “The punishment does not fit the crime.”

He struck her so solidly that she collapsed to the ground, her head pounding and ears ringing as she pushed herself to her knees. 

“That isn’t fair, my lord!” It was Thor who spoke up at last after the stunned silence had ended. Artemis winced as she stood, wiping the blood from her lip. She made no sound, uttered no cry. 

“You do not decide how I discipline my child, Thor Odinson—“

“But if we are not to be married,” Thor insisted, gesturing at Loki with a wave of his hand, “then my brother can have the lady’s hand… Loki can have her! She need not be punished!”

“Oh, he’ll have me, will he?” she spat, visibly shaking as she glared at Loki. The prince stayed mute, his eyes on the table. “Will you? Will you have me? Am I a thing to be passed from one brother to another?”

“You did that to yourself, daughter of mine,” Zeus laughed. “The moment you spread your legs for him, you became a thing.”

She exhaled sharply, as though he had struck her in the gut, and her father merely laughed. It was a cruel sort of laughter, one that would follow her all the way to the realm of humans. Loki finally glanced up at her briefly, his expression heavy and morose. She glared. What did it matter if he looked the part? He hadn’t spoken up once in her defense, and he was the reason she had lost her home—her girls, her hounds, her beloved bow. 

“To Earth with you,” Zeus sneered, pointing toward the doorway. Artemis licked her lips and turned, saying nothing in the form of a farewell to Odin or Thor—and not Loki. She wasn’t sure what she would say if she tried, but no one stopped her for forced pleasantries. Angry tears rolled down her cheeks as she descended the dark stairwell, but she brushed them away before she reached the bottom. 

She couldn’t bring herself to go through the busier side of the palace, the one that housed dozens of guests. It wasn’t that she cared if they saw her, but she didn’t want to see them. She didn’t care if they gossiped, but she couldn’t stand the thought of anyone speaking to her right now. Her world had just been shattered once again, and this time it was Asgard that she would leave behind and Earth that she would face alone. 

The one upside was that she would stay with her mother, who would undoubtedly know precisely how to comfort her. 

Artemis strode down empty corridors with her hands in fists. It wasn’t until she heard a familiar voice call her name that she slowed, but she knew she couldn’t stop. If her father discovered that she lingered, she would be in more trouble than she was already. She wondered if her family would immediately gather their belongings and leave when they learned of her “betrayal”—she couldn’t imagine them staying longer than necessary. 

“My lady!”

Callisto’s footsteps barely made a sound as they pattered against the marble hallway, and Artemis glanced over her shoulder as the nymph approached. 

“Are you alright?” she demanded, reaching up to touch Artemis’s swollen lip. It would disappear by the next sunrise, and Artemis batted her hand away. “What’s happened?”

“We were discovered by Hera,” she replied, her words curt and pointed. Callisto’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. “Father has banished me to Earth as punishment for ruining our alliance with Asgard.”

“But—“

“You cannot come with me,” she said quickly, taking Callisto’s hands and holding them over her heart, “but you must do something for me.”

“Yes, of course!”

“Go to my room and gather my things.” Artemis had grown quite fond of a number of pieces in her room, and she wasn’t about to have her sisters pick through them in her absence. “Take them with you and keep them safe.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Find Apollo and tell him everything that has happened,” she added, wishing her brother could have been by her side for the duration of her father’s shouting. At least he would have defended her. “He will ensure that no harm comes to you or any of the others.”

She nodded, but she remained mercifully quiet. Her handmaiden walked with her until they reached the gardens, and it was there they found Nomia walking Echo. 

“My lady!” the redhead greeted brightly. Echo barked happily, dragging the small human across the lush green yard when she spied her owner. But Artemis couldn’t dawdle. She couldn’t tell the story again, nor did she want to, and she couldn’t touch her dog and leave her here. Instead, she turned and fled, hurrying through the gardens and across a courtyard until she reached the palace’s private exit. 

Halfway down the rocky path that would take her to the Bifrost, she heard barking echoing across the starlight night. She stopped and turned, a sad smile crossing her lips as Echo bounded down the pathway to her side. The creature’s tail whipped back and forth violently, and Artemis crouched down to hold her once last time, running a hand along the hound’s broken leash. 

“Stay here, Echo,” she ordered wearily, holding out a hand as she stepped away. The dog stared at her, tail wagging still, and continued to follow her. Artemis repeated the command several more times, ordering her hound to remain behind. However, by the time she reached the rainbow bridge, she gave up, and Echo was permitted to walk by her side instead. 

She felt like Aora. Here she was, banished to Earth because she was caught in the throes of passion with a lover. Artemis sighed deeply; what had he done to her? She let him bring her down—all under the guise of love. Shaking her head, she vowed not to let a man sully her again. He hadn’t tainted her as her father thought, but he had made her dependent, he had made her feel more than she had ever before, and for that she was sure she could hate him. 

Hate him and love him. 

When she looked back to the bright lights of Asgard’s golden city, she saw no one following her across the bridge. No shapes emerged. There were no last minute efforts to stop her. With Echo as her only company, she turned and trudged toward her punishment. By the time she arrived at Heimdall’s keep, she was starting to feel numb. 

“As per my father’s wishes,” she groaned as she stalked by Heimdall, Echo bouncing at her side, “send me to Earth.”

Heimdall watched her from his steps, his sword resting between his large hands. “Is that what you wish?”

“I have no other choice.”

“You should have stayed with him,” the gatekeeper mused sadly. “The future of Asgard now hangs in the balance—“

“It was never my job to carry such a burden!” she shouted, arms flailing. Echo cowered behind her, whining softly. “I never chose this… not any of it!”

He stared at her with his amber eyes, so calm and focused, and then shifted his sword. 

“To Earth, my lady?”

“To Earth,” she muttered, taking a step toward the portal and bracing herself. As magic began to pull at her, she exhaled, listening to Echo’s howls follow her across the realms.


	32. Epilogue

The moment Loki’s feel touched the rocky ground, he doubled over. Face reddening, he tried to force the air into his lungs, and it was only when he started to see little dots of light across his vision that he finally started to breathe again. 

The witch had been successful—he had made it to Earth in one piece. 

Gasping, he collapsed onto his knees, limbs trembling and eyes taking in the scenery. It was sparser than he expected, with clumps of long grass scattered across a dusty covering. There was a tree here and there, small with thick green leaves on the upmost portion of its branches, but it was not the wooded wonderland that he had expected Artemis to hail from. 

He had done so much in her absence. Plotted. Murdered. Taken the Asgardian throne for himself. When the Bifrost sucked the last of the Olympians from Asgard, Loki felt his willpower shatter, and he watched it disintegrate into a thousand lost pieces. As always, Thor faced no repercussions—even after admitting that he too carried on with an affair during the engagement. Their father—Thor’s father—decided to push the coronation forward and complete the ceremony without a queen, as if Artemis had never mattered anyway.

It had all started off as a prank, as a game. He let the Frost Giants in to spoil Thor’s coronation, too cowardly to have a hand so visibly in it himself, and then it spiraled from there. With Thor’s banishment—finally, a just punishment for his recklessness—and Loki’s subsequent discovery of his true parentage, he wasn’t sure who he wanted to punish more: Odin or Laufey. In the end, he took the throne and killed his true father, hoping that the All-father would stay asleep long enough for him to consolidate his place on the throne. 

But nothing good ever lasts, and upon Thor’s return to Asgard—a new, mature man with another woman lapping at his heels—Loki faced a choice. He could dutifully pay for his crimes and fall back into the shadows, or he could flee and find his own path to power. In the end, he chose the latter, forsaking the family who lied to him all these years in favour of the vast universe. 

And so he fell. 

He traveled far during his time away, but all the while a fair-haired Olympian lingered at the back of his mind. The manner in which they parted ways was unsatisfying, and the guilt he felt for letting her take the brunt of the punishment gnawed at him. So, after traversing a dark, murky realm wherein the witches made their home, he found one who could transport him to Earth. The payment was given in blood, and he would have one day to be with his beloved before the power would draw him back. 

One day was enough—he could explain himself in less time than that. 

Sucking in a few more gulps of air, Loki tilted his head up and stared at the sky—light blue and clear. The air was moderately warm, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Glancing down at his hand, a pale red glow engulfed his palm: when the light faded, his time was up. Clenching his hand into a fist, he stood and stumbled across the scraggly landscape until he was atop a small hill. It was from that hill that he could see he stood upon an island surrounded by dark water as far as the eye could see. In the distance, he saw signs of a civilization: small buildings made of white stone with blue roofs, scattered roads, and wandering humans. 

From that hill, they were all so far from him. The witch had done him a good service sending him here—he must be near her. Somewhere, Artemis lurked nearby, and it only made sense that she would be far from the humans: her opinion of them had never been high. So, he clambered down the hill and marched until he happened upon a road—unsmooth and rural. 

And that was where he stopped. The edge of the road dipped downward, and at the bottom of the small cliff, there was a gravely beach and a few massive stones, upon which he found his lady love. She was stretched out—topless—on one of the large rocks in the shallows of the water. There was a green bag and a blanket of some kind spread out on the rocky shore, but she appeared to be napping beneath the sunlight, an arm thrown over her forehead while the other sat languidly at her side. 

Some punishment she faced; he let out a small sigh, smiling. Carefully, he made his way down the crumbling cliff, avoiding any rocks that appeared loose, and then hopped onto the shore. It was quite peaceful out here with nothing but the waves brushing up against the earth, the soft cry of a bird echoing in the distance. 

The rocks crunched beneath his black boots. It was hard to look away from her, stretched out atop the rock without a care in the world. This was how he would always have her: naked and carefree. Licking his lips, he stopped at the waterline, studying her for a very long time. She was what sparked his revolution, his quest for redemption and freedom. She hadn’t been the only cause to rebel against Thor and Odin, but she was the beacon who beckoned him onward. He owed her a great deal, this beautiful Olympian. 

The water crashed up against his feet suddenly, and he stumbled back, annoyed that the warm liquid soaked right through. It was then that Artemis sat up, eyes wide and alert. He held up his hands when she whipped around, and for a moment, they stared at one another as though they were strangers. Her expression was almost painfully unreadable, and she slid off the rock slowly. As always, she made no move to hide her nudity, but Loki kept his eyes fixed respectfully on her face, watching her as she stalked through the shallows. 

Her hair was up—he liked the way the loose pieces stuck out around her face. 

Once she stepped onto the shore, Loki held out his hand, hoping she would put hers in his palm. Instead, she ducked down by her blanket and grabbed a dress, pulling it over her head and tying the straps around her neck. When she faced him again, he let his eyes wander downward over the coral fabric, down to her sandy feet. He was so preoccupied with her, with seeing her in the flesh once more, that he didn’t notice when she reeled back to strike him. 

The blows came to his chest, his arm, his leg. He braced himself, hands over his face as she continued to beat him with gritted teeth. He managed to deflect the knee that came up, aimed straight for his groin, and when he had had enough, Loki snatched her wrists to still her. She was practically seething, and in that moment, he kissed her. 

And she let him.

Lips pressed firmly to hers, he dragged her closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. He wanted to show her that he was different—that he was no longer the little boy who hugged the shadows. Unfortunately, with one hand free, she was able to hit him again, and that she did—vigorously. He grunted when her fist collided with his cheek, and they both stumbled away when he released her. 

“You said nothing!” she shouted as she staggered to her feet, grasping a handful of thick sand and hurling it at him. “You stood there and let me face judgement alone! As if I was the only one who did something wrong!”

“Don’t you see?” he said weakly, wiping the blood that dribbled down his lip. “Neither of us did anything wrong—”

“I am aware of what we did…” She huffed at him and started to gather her blanket, forcing it into her large bag. “In our eyes, we were innocents, and yet you let me become the criminal.”

He had no words to counter that. Nowhere in his vast vocabulary was there an argument to refute her point, and he simply watched her pack her things and sling her bag over her shoulder. She stomped down the shore, but then paused and turned back sharply on her heel. 

“You were a coward,” she told him, shaking her head at him. 

She waited, eyebrows up, but once again he had nothing to say to her—she wasn’t wrong. So, when she carried on down the shoreline, Loki simply marched after her, closing the distance between them quickly. There were no more blows thrown his way, but he eyed her apprehensively, ready should she feel the need to strike him again. 

Loki followed her up a steep incline, poised to catch her if she slipped, but Artemis traveled the terrain as though she had done it dozens of times before—she probably had. When they were back on the road, away from the soothing water and the rocky shore, she glanced over her shoulder at him, her expression still unpleasant. 

“Why are you here?”

“I came to see you.” His eyes flickered to the red mark on his hand—it had shrunk somewhat. 

“Why?”

He blinked rapidly, forcing his attention back to her, and then sighed. 

“Because I love you.”

Because there was no one left for him anymore. No Thor, no Odin, no Frigga, no Asgard. 

He stumbled into her when she stopped, turned, and started beating him again. This time, like the last, he let her, ducking down and trying to avoid any blows to the face. 

“If you loved me,” she spat, slamming her knee into his chest, “you would have spoken for me! You would have faced banishment too!”

“Artemis, I—” He grunted when she kneed him in the stomach now, forcefully knocking the wind out of him. She shoved him away when she was finished, her bag on the ground and woefully forgotten. Shooting her a haphazard look, he straightened up and dusted himself off.

“Coward.”

“I know.”

“Horrible, awful, spineless coward,” she continued—her voice wavered, shoulders slumped. “I let you… When no one else has… I let you…” 

“I was all of those things.” He walked up to her cautiously, taking her fisted hands in his. “I deserve every foul word you have to give me, and one day I’ll earn your forgiveness—”

She snorted, rolling her eyes heavenward. 

“But until that day,” Loki continued, “know that I love you. Then and now… in equal measures.”

Artemis wrenched her hands away and took a step back, folding her arms across her chest. 

“Why are you here?”

He pursed his lips: he had hoped that his declaration of undying affection would have been enough to stem her rage, but it only seemed to quiet it temporarily. 

“I… I made a deal with a witch to see you for a day,” he prattled, knowing that it would be foolish to lie to her, “and so here I am… for one day.”

“What?”

“I made a—”

“You could have easily asked Heimdall to send you here,” she reasoned, pointing an accusatory finger at him and arching an eyebrow. “Does this have something to do with Thor’s presence on Earth?”

“You heard—”

She scoffed. “The whole world heard. He’s not exactly a subtle man, is he?”

“No, that was never his strongest feature.” It pained him to speak of Thor so soon after he… Loki sighed, shaking his head. “My presence here is not Thor’s doing. He’s returned to Asgard—”

“Yes, it does feel somewhat more stable in the realm,” she droned, head cocked to the side. “Why was he here in the first place?”

“Father…” He trailed off, feeling the cool bite of the word grip his chest, and he cleared his throat. “The All-father banished him for invading Jotunheim against the command of the king.”

Artemis arched an eyebrow, her gaze still stern. “Why did he do that?”

“Because the Frost Giants spoiled the coronation… They stopped the ceremony and he wasn’t crowned.”

She licked her lips. “And why did they do that?”

“Because I let them.”

Her jaw clenched as she observed him. She then grabbed her bag and slung the strap across her body, letting it rest on her shoulder as though it was a bow. 

“Why are you here?”

He noticed her eyes were starting to weep. 

“Because I love you.”

“Why are you here?”

He shook his head. In that moment, he didn’t want to tell her what had happened. He didn’t want to see the disappointment, to hear the heavy sigh of disbelief. 

“Because I love you,” he repeated slowly, finding a spot just over her shoulder to stare, “and because I cannot return to Asgard.”

“What have you done, Loki?”

She sounded tired now, as though his very presence exhausted her. However, before he could say anything, Artemis turned and carried on along the road. She gave no objection when he hurried after her, like a pup afters its elder, and he followed her in an almost painful silence. They walked along the coast for some time, until he realized she was taking him to a house carved into a cliff. 

It was a small place with two levels, and to an outsider, it may look abandoned. However, as they approached it, Loki saw the details that hinted at life. There were vines along the windows and moonstones lining the base of the structure. They marched down a set of stairs, also carved into the rocky hillside, until they were on the shoreline once more. In the distance, Loki spied a woman washing linens in the sea, a basket nearby. 

“My mother,” Artemis muttered when she caught him staring. The woman looked young enough to be her sister, though her hair was black as the very darkest night. She glanced up as Artemis carried on, and continued to watch Loki until he stepped through the front door, her eyes burning into his back. 

“She’s very lovely—”

“She’s a Titan’s daughter,” Artemis told him, dusting her feet off on a rug in the main hallway. There wasn’t a hint of marble or tile to be seen—nothing but smooth rock and the occasional rug. “My father means to wipe them out, the Titans, and yet he selectively forgets he bedded one… frequently, for a time.” 

The home was surprisingly open for being embedded in a cliff. The rooms were airy and bright, illuminated by the large windows, while the furniture was an array of the ancient and modern—there was an ornate wooden bench seated in front of a great black screen. As Loki sauntered further in, hands clasped behind his back as Artemis emptied the contents of her bag on a table, he heard a low rumble from behind the eatery’s counter. Peering around, his lips curved upward when he found the source. 

“Echo!” He greeted the large hound pleasantly, kneeling down to stroke her as her massive tail thumped against the flooring. She had grown immense since he last saw her, and she couldn’t seem to stop panting. “We all wondered where she had gone…”

“Callisto and Nomia snuck her away,” Artemis told him, a smile easy to hear in her voice. “She can’t seem to adjust to the warm weather here… I think I will move somewhere cold for her soon.”

“I bet she will like that,” he cooed, rubbing behind the dog’s ear before straightening up. “I am glad she found you.”

“My mother wants to know if she’ll ever stop growing.” He saw her smiling as she stepped over her pet, setting a bottle of some sort in the sink. “She’s displeased that Echo takes up so much space.”

The hound’s ears perked when she heard her name, and Loki smirked down at her when she let out a low whine. 

He watched her putter around the small eatery for a moment, moving between appliances and shuffling dishes around on the limited countertops. He had missed her—so desperately. He couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if she had stayed with him, if he had spoken up. Would Thor be Asgard’s king? Would Artemis be his wife—would she be Loki’s?

He swallowed down the lump the thought caused. 

She stopped what she was doing after she retrieved a bottle of wine from a cupboard, her hands resting on the counter’s edge. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Loki insisted, hopping over Echo to be by her side. However, when she didn’t turn, he stepped in behind her, placing his hands atop hers and his mouth by her ear. Her smell hadn’t changed—he trailed his nose along her skin for a moment. “I’ve never wanted anything from you…”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“Only to you.”

“You want me to love you.” He trailed his fingers along her arms, ghosting them over her skin as she spoke. “You’ll always want something from me.”

“If you felt differently, you would have left me on the beach,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to her hair. 

“Loki…”

“Only for today.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound like he was begging, but he couldn’t help himself. Artemis wasn’t an easy woman to love: she was selfish and uninterested on occasion, but now he needed her more than ever. “Please?”

She sighed, long and deep, and then leaned back against him. One hand remained pressed against the countertop while the other combed through his hair, tightening around the lengthy locks. His lips fell to her neck by default, sucking and nipping at the bronze flesh. She was so warm—dark and beautiful and his. 

Her body fit with his like it always had—like it always should—and Loki bit down on her shoulder as he quickly untied the straps of her dress. He heard her breathing quicken as the thin fabric pooled around her feet, and somewhere behind them, Echo shifted to find another spot to sleep—perhaps where she wouldn’t be disturbed by lovers. 

Artemis turned in his arms and dragged him down for another kiss, her hands fisted in his shirt, and he couldn’t help but collapse into it. He had been on the move for so long now, never lingering or settling in one place for any length of time, and it was comforting to know that there was stability in the universe for him—should he ever choose it. He wanted to touch her, every piece of her, but she was hurried, as always, in her quest for satisfaction, and Loki groaned as she hastily undid the tie of his trousers. 

He broke away from her lips, preferring to trail his down her flesh instead. He grazed his teeth on her neck. He ran his tongue along her collarbone. He plucked at a deliciously pert nipple. His hands curved around her thighs and he hoisted her onto the counter, his face buried between her breasts. It was there he lingered, hands on her legs as she stroked her fingers through his hair, simply breathing her in. 

During his travels, he sometimes forgot what she was like, what she felt like when he nestled between her thighs. He would grow frustrated—angry—in her absence, unable to recall what he was guilty about. But now, in that very moment, he knew he was riddled with remorse for letting her walk away, for not chasing her. She would entertain his needs, for now, but when the day was done, he wondered if she would ever invite him back again. 

She whispered his name, softly at first and then more urgently. He tilted his head up, resting his chin on her chest, and she trailed her fingers along his cheek. 

“What have you done?” she murmured, and he shook his head. “Tell me, Loki.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

He licked his lips and tried to kiss her again, but she craned her head back and out of his reach. 

“Tell me.”

“I was betrayed.” The words were stale on his tongue, like he had tasted them too many times already. “Artemis, they…”

She stared down at him through eyes that held the experience of centuries, and then gently slid off the counter. For a moment, he thought she intended to send him away—perhaps she had already been informed of the sins committed on Asgard. Instead, she took him by the hand, grabbed the bottle of wine, and led him out of the kitchen.

They ended up in a small, brightly-lit bedroom that overlooked the sea. It was there that she sat him down, straddled his lap, gripped him by his hair, and demanded the truth. 

And it was there that he gave her everything.

* * *

Artemis let out a cry, her head wrenched back as he took her. Not a moment earlier, the last leg of her wooden bed had crumbled, broken under the weight of two otherworldly creatures in the midst of passion. She clung to his shoulders, her nails digging in to his cool flesh, and she inhaled sharply when she finally came—a long, shudder-inducing pleasure that rattled down to her very core. Loki groaned softly, his face buried in her neck, and his pace quickened.

She hadn’t meant to invite him into her bed. In fact, she fully intended to leave him on the beach after she first saw him. After all this time, she had let her heart grow cold toward him, enraged by his silence. It was apparent early on in her punishment that Zeus’s anger had been for show: this was no punishment. She relished the opportunity to live solely with her mother again, and she spent most of her days lounging on the beach, and her nights warranted the occasional visit to the nearby small towns. 

She was content here—away from the drama and the court and the pressures of a crown. 

And then he wandered in out of nowhere and ruined it for her. Just as he had before, Loki soiled her resolve and wormed his way into her bed. His intentions were certainly not malicious. In fact, he practically begged her to let him between her thighs, his veneer breaking as he admitted to his betrayal—to what he had done that caused him to flee Asgard. 

Physically, he was a changed man from his travels, and yet once he had her in bed, he was almost completely the same. Away from the shed linens and heated embrace, he was still a broken prince who longed for a place to be powerful, to have control, and because—in the pit of her being—she still loved him, Artemis let him.

She told herself, as he ground against her and yanked on her hair, that it would be the last time she welcomed him into her bed, but that could be nothing more than idle talk. He hissed her name sharply, holding her so tight that it was almost painful—almost—and then relaxed against her. Their breathing was heavy—the only noise in the now dark room. Her eyes flickered toward the window; the sun had set almost an hour ago. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a word she had heard repeatedly since she took him to her room, “but I’m afraid we’ve ruined your bed.”

She smiled, a genuine one, and slowly stroked his hair. “I like it better this way.”

“Hmm.” He eased off her carefully, settling at her side with an arm across her waist. “I have missed this.”

“Yes,” she murmured. She wouldn’t say that she had also missed him—or this—or anything else involving Asgard. In fact, she preferred that they didn’t talk about it, as it would only stir her temper. Sighing, she shifted up so that she could sit against the wall, and then grabbed the bottle of wine she had left on her bedside table. After taking a swig, she offered some to her lover, who accepted with a grin. 

She took his hand in hers, sitting it on her lap and studying the soft red glow in his palm—it was nearly gone. 

“What price did you pay to see me?” 

Loki clenched his hand together, sitting up to join her. “My blood. It was nothing important.”

“To the witch,” Artemis mused, “I suspect it was very important.”

When he said nothing in return, Artemis glanced at him and saw that his eyes were closed and head leaned back against the wall. Licking her lips, she took another sip of wine and mimicked his pose, his hand resting on her leg. They stayed like that for a lengthy period, giving her ample time to mull over everything that had happened that day. When he finally slipped off the bed and started to retrieve his clothes, the words that left her lips shocked them both.

“You could stay here with me,” she said quietly. “We could be happy.”

He paused for a moment, and then fed his arm into his sleeve. 

“I could.”

“But you won’t,” she added for him. The idea certainly didn’t make her unhappy. “Where are you going to go?”

“I… I have a few ideas,” he told her. 

“None of which you will share with me.”

“It’s better if you are not privy to them, yes.”

“Do you think I’ll tell someone?” she asked, head cocked to the side as he danced around on one foot, shoving the other into a shoe. 

“No, not even a little,” he said with a chuckle. “I think you’ll be angry with me again.”

Artemis studied him over the tip of his nose. “Will I have reason to be angry?”

“Perhaps.”

He pressed his thumb into the palm of his hand, wincing a little. Then, once he finished dressing, he returned to her side and kissed her—tenderly, his hands in her hair. 

“There will be much I need to do,” he whispered, his breath dancing along her cheek as his lips trailed upward to her ear, “and when I begin, I cannot stop.”

She swallowed thickly and nuzzled against him, shaking her head a little. “I’ll not interfere in Asgardian politics, Loki.”

“I understand.”

Already regretting it, Artemis took his face in her hands and met his gaze, holding him close. “When you’re finished… truly finished… come back to me.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, preferring it in its longer state, and he grinned. 

“Maybe I’ll let you back into my bed,” she added, turning her cheek when he swooped in for another kiss, “if you’re lucky.”

“Luck tends to be in my favour these days.”

He kissed her twice more before easing away. They exchanged one last look, one where she held his gaze unashamedly, and then he was gone. Artemis listened to him shuffle down the stairs and stop to give Echo some attention. Moments later, the front door shut, and Artemis climbed off her broken bed and sauntered to her window. 

He paused on the shoreline, looking back at her mother’s house in the darkness, and then vanished. In her heart of hearts, she knew this was the last time she would see him—the true him. Yes, she would probably see Loki in the future, but he would be a changed man. She saw it now: the fury in his eyes and the sorrow in his heart.

It was a deadly combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This was one of the first Loki fics I wrote back in 2012 (?), uploaded originally to FF.net, and I'm glad to see there's still some love for these two crazy kids. I've yet to write a sequel, though I was suuuuuper keen on writing one set during the Avengers timeline, then perhaps continuing on with a one-shot linked to each movie Loki makes an appearance in. Or little snippets. We'll see. There's always the possibility for more. I love my bb girl Artemis.


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